More than enough
by twochairsshortofaset
Summary: Having moved out of the potting shed and been promoted to Assistant Manager at the Independence Inn, Lorelai is finally starting to get ahead. However, one thing she can't seem to control is the impact Chris' irresponsibility has on 10.y.o. Rory. As Luke becomes more of a fixture in the Gilmore girls' lives, will Lorelai finally realize he could be their knight in shining plaid?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** I'm a huge fan of Lorelai and Luke, and particularly like the kind of father-daughter bond that has developed between Luke and Rory. This fanfic will delve into the relationships between all of these three characters and is set when Rory is 10.

As I'm an Aussie, I'm aware we spell some of our words differently to American English. I've done my best to change the spellings to US throughout, but please don't hold it against me if I happen to use the occasional 's' in place of a 'z' or something like that! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the fic (even if you think it sucks!), so please review.

Happy reading!

 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way affiliated with Gilmore Girls and (sadly!) do not own any of the characters. I am simply borrowing them for fun :)

-o-

Lorelai bit down on her lower lip, watching her daughter apprehensively as she hung up the phone.

"How's your dad, kid?" she asked, the cheer in her voice disguising the uneasy feeling in her stomach.

"Fine," Rory answered glumly, her eyes downcast.

"He still in Chicago?"

"Yeah," Rory murmured, still refusing to meet her mother's eyes.

"Anything you wanna talk about sweetie?" Lorelai asked, having deduced enough from Rory's side of the 20-minute phone conversation to realize Christopher had let her daughter down. Again.

"No," came the hushed response.

"Girl of few words, huh?"

Lorelai knew better than to press her 10-year-old for information before she'd had a chance to absorb the blow that so often came following a phone call with her father. She watched as Rory slipped past her on her way to the porch swing, her shoulders slumped ever-so-slightly.

Running a hand through her hair, Lorelai sighed and wondered what Christopher had done this time to elicit such a response from her normally chirpy daughter. Cancelled a visit? Told Rory he was hitting the road on his motorbike again and didn't know when he'd next be able to call?

It was always the same with Christopher. He'd get her hopes up time and time again only to bring them crashing down, leaving Lorelai to pick up the pieces.

Lorelai left Rory to her own thoughts for a while, finally pushing up from the dining chair and making her way to the front porch wearily. Rory sat slouched on the swing, her feet kicking back and forth as the swing rocked slowly. Silently, Lorelai dropped down into the space beside her, drawing Rory's shoulders to her and stroking her hair softly.

"Hey," she whispered, letting her daughter bury into the warmth of her chest.

Rory let out a muffled sob, clutching at Lorelai's shirt and finally letting the tears flow hot and fast.

"Ssshhh, it's okay baby," Lorelai soothed, wishing there was something she could do to ease her daughter's pain. "I'm here. Mommy's got you."

They continued to rock back and forth, the swinging motion and whispered words of love eventually lulling Rory into a sense of calm. Stroking her daughter's back soothingly, Lorelai drew her head back and said softly, "So, wanna tell me what's going on? Maybe I can help."

Rory locked her blue orbs on Lorelai, her cheeks plastered with tear stains as she whispered meekly, "He's not coming." Ignoring the mix of heartbreak and anger warring inside her, Lorelai simply drew her daughter to her once again, uttering a quiet "I'm so sorry baby."

Rory had been looking forward to Christopher's visit for weeks. She'd excitedly told her school friends about his promise to visit Stars Hollow and was ecstatic at the thought of showing him around the town and through the house they'd purchased since vacating the potting shed. Most of all, she was looking forward to having him join in her school's Daddy Daughter Dance as well as the classroom activities scheduled in the lead-up to Father's Day.

Knowing his track record for failing to show up, Lorelai had urged Christopher not to get Rory's hopes up unless he was 100 per cent sure he could follow through on his promise.

 _I promise I'll be there Lor. It's gonna be different this time. I mean it; I've changed._

Christopher's false words echoed around her head, prompting the anger to bubble up inside her once again. Why did he continue to do this? How could he have such a blatant disregard for his daughter's feelings? Why did she let him do this to Rory time and time again?

Huddled in Lorelai's arms, Rory began to recount the phone conversation, a hiccup escaping every now and again as her tears slowly dissipated.

Lorelai wanted to kill Christopher for being so careless. For shelving his responsibilities, for depriving Rory of the father figure she so desperately wanted and for spurting lines about them all being together as a family one day. It was never going to happen. While Lorelai had stopped being a child the moment the strip turned pink, she wasn't convinced Christopher would ever grow up.

After a half hour spent soothing her daughter as she voiced her disappointment and frustration, Lorelai leaned forward on the swing, grasping Rory's arm as she said, "You know what? I think you could do with some cheering up. How about we walk into town and splurge on a slice of cake at Weston's? Or some ice cream with colored sprinkles!"

Rory shook her head but Lorelai could see the light had returned to her eyes somewhat. "Coffee at Luke's?" she asked with a sly smile, knowing her mother would shoot her down in an instant.

"Nice try, Gilmore. But no matter how upset you are, I'm not budging on the no coffee rule. You know the drill…you've still got a few more years to wait before you're allowed to turn into a caffeine fiend like me."

Rory giggled as her mother tickled her belly.

"We can go to Luke's but how about a donut or some pie instead?" Lorelai countered.

Rory smiled and clambered to her feet, extending her hand to Lorelai and pulling her down the porch steps.

-o-

The afternoon rush was in full swing when the Gilmores entered the packed diner.

Luke was nowhere to be seen as they stepped over the threshold, locating the only free table by the window. Sinking into a seat, Lorelai asked, "What's it gonna be sweet cheeks? Donut, Danish or pie?"

Rory deliberated for a few moments before answering with a smile, "Pie please. It looks like Luke has apple today."

Not a moment later, Luke emerged from the kitchen, his arms laden with plates and his trademark backwards baseball cap affixed to his head. After delivering the dishes, he collected the coffee pot and a mug from behind the counter and weaved his way amongst the crowd to their table.

"Hey, how's it going?" he grunted, nodding his head to acknowledge their presence.

"Oh, you know, fine. We're just making the most of a little mommy-daughter time while I've got a day off from the inn aren't we Ror?" Lorelai replied, giving Rory's hand a gentle squeeze across the table.

She smiled as she spoke but Luke couldn't help but notice it didn't quite reach her eyes. It also didn't escape his attention that she'd refrained from teasingly calling him Duke when he'd approached. Normally, the nickname drove him mental, but the absence of her usual banter had him worried.

"Everything okay?" he asked, studying Lorelai's face for any hint of despondency.

"Yep, fine," Lorelai assured him. "Just looking to order some pie for my number one girl here."

Though unconvinced, Luke nodded and wrote the order down on his notepad. "Coffee, I take it?" he asked, raising the pot he'd placed on the table.

"Thought you'd never ask," Lorelai answered, pushing the empty mug toward him.

"Pie for you too?"

"No thanks, coffee will be fine."

As Luke returned to the kitchen, Lorelai mentally calculated the cost of the order, assuring herself the little amount they'd ordered wouldn't eat into the weekly budget she'd set aside. While she'd recently been promoted to Assistant Manager at the Inn, much of the increased pay packet so far had gone toward medical bills after Rory sprained her wrist during a particularly animated ballet lesson at Miss Patty's. Her wrist had recovered quickly, but she'd needed an x-ray to be sure it wasn't broken and that combined with the doctor's visit turned out to be a fairly costly exercise, especially when Lorelai had only just gotten back on her feet after covering the costs of moving house.

Lorelai knew some of their financial pressure would be alleviated as she settled into the Assistant Manager role, but she was ever cautious of living within her means and not splurging too much on luxuries to be sure she could manage should Rory require another doctor's visit or should she need to hire a tradesperson if something unexpectedly broke at the Crap Shack.

Lorelai sipped her coffee in silence, finally steeling herself to broach the subject of Christopher's cancelled visit with her daughter once again. "So, I was thinking about the Father's Day activities at your school and I had an idea," Lorelai explained slowly. Rory's ears perked up, her eyes meeting Lorelai's with interest.

"Why don't I go in your dad's place instead? I can do all the activities just as well as he can and it'll be just like we always say…you and me against the world. We can show them our girl power!"

The edges of Rory's mouth turned up slightly, but the half smile was soon replaced with a worried frown as she began to wring her hands, fidgeting slightly.

"Thanks Mom, that's a really nice idea but I don't think it will work," she said softly, her eyes focused on her hands.

"Oh yeah? I don't see why not. Mr Kim is going to be working away that week so Lane's uncle is going with her. And Andrew is going to be there with Holly from your class. He's not even related to her so it won't matter if it's not solely dads in attendance."

Rory sighed. "Andrew's only going because Holly and Lisa are twins. Their dad will be there for all the activities…it's just that he couldn't dance with them both at the same time. Andrew's his best friend so he's helping out with the Daddy Daughter Dance," Rory explained.

"Well that's okay honey. The point I was trying to make is that not everyone will be dancing with their dad, so you won't have to feel out of place."

Rory didn't say anything for a few moments, unsure of how to phrase her thoughts without hurting her mom's feelings.

"I know…it's just that…umm…well…Lane's uncle and Andrew…they're not real dads but….well…they're not, you know…um….girls," Rory finished lamely, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. "It's the Daddy Daughter Dance so it kind of needs to be a boy. But maybe I can just pretend I need to go to the bathroom when it's on. Mrs. Foster probably wouldn't notice I was gone. And you and I can do all the other activities together."

Lorelai felt her stomach clench at Rory's words. The last thing she wanted was for her daughter to feel embarrassed or ostracized.

"Oh hon, I understand if you don't want me to dance with you, but I also don't want you to feel like you're missing out. I know how much this dance means to you. You've been practicing so much at home."

Rory's eyes welled with moisture and she looked down quickly in the hope Lorelai wouldn't see the tears returning. She'd never heard her mother say anything negative about her father, but Rory could sense her disappointment each time he called to say he'd have to cancel another visit or to apologize for forgetting her birthday. She didn't want Lorelai to know just how sad she was that her dad couldn't be there.

Before they could say another word, Luke appeared from the table beside them, coffee pot and pie in hand. He seemed to realize something was upsetting the Gilmores, and took a moment to tell Rory a story about Kirk being chased up a tree by a barking cocker spaniel while out delivering catalogues. Lorelai was grateful for the distraction, silently thanking Luke for lightening the mood and making her little girl giggle.

After Luke returned to the counter, Lorelai sipped her coffee in silence, watching Rory as she devoured her slice of pie. She had a sneaking suspicion the flower-shaped sprinkle of cinnamon sugar adorning the top of the pastry hadn't been carefully sprinkled onto every pie-loving customer's order today. She'd felt a rush of gratitude toward Luke when he'd placed the plate in front of Rory. Her daughter's eyes had lit up and she'd smiled her million-watt smile for the first time since her phone call with her father. It didn't take much to please her.

After finishing her pie, Rory noticed Lane and Mrs Kim out in the square and asked Lorelai if she could pop outside to say hello. Lorelai nodded, reminded her to look for cars when crossing the street and watched her through the giant glass window as she made her way toward her best friend.

Lorelai felt Luke's presence behind her rather than heard him and glanced up to see him gazing after Rory as she neared the gazebo.

"On the house," he grunted, placing a donut with pink icing and sprinkles on the table in front of her. "Rough day, huh?" he added in a low voice.

Clutching her coffee mug in both hands, she let out a shaky sigh and gave a half smile. It wasn't often she showed weakness, but for a brief moment, Luke recognized a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. Less than a second later, her fierce resolve had returned, masking any chinks in her perfectly constructed suit of armor.

"How'd you know?"

Luke simply gave a shrug of his shoulders and turned his gaze back to Rory. "She okay?"

"Yeah, she will be."

Luke cocked an eyebrow, encouraging her to go on.

"Christopher called."

Luke gave a grunt of acknowledgement, the muscle in his jaw twitching as she mentioned the name of Rory's noticeably absent father. Despite having never met him, he wasn't particularly fond of the guy.

"He…uh...was supposed to be coming to visit Rory next week for Father's Day. The school has all these activities planned and she asked him to come weeks ago. He promised he'd be there but he called this morning to say he can't make it."

"Oh, I'm sorry. That's really rough. Did he at least have a good reason?"

Lorelai gave a wry smile. "He told Rory he scored free tickets to some sporting game and it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Can you believe that?" she asked incredulously.

Luke clenched his fists by his sides. He wanted nothing more than to find Christopher and put his head through a wall.

"That piece of scum!" Luke fumed. "You know it's just as well he didn't step foot in Stars Hollow because I swear to God, if I'd laid eyes on that jerk, he sure as hell wouldn't be around to tell the tale once I was finished with him."

Realizing he'd let his anger get the better of him, Luke looked down at Lorelai and began to apologize for his outburst.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry Lorelai. I know he's Rory's father. That was really inappropria…"

"No need to apologize," Lorelai said, cutting him off. "You're preaching to the choir. Believe me, I have a few choice words I'd like to say to Christopher at the moment and they're not very ladylike."

At Luke's smirk, Lorelai gave a brief smile, comforted at the thought there was somebody, hell _anybody_ , on her side.

"You know the worst part of it all?" Lorelai confided quietly, staring into her coffee cup. "It makes me realize I'll never be enough for her, you know? I can pick her up, dust her off and tell her how much I love her every time he breaks another promise, but I'll never be everything she needs. She deserves so much more Luke. I'm doing all I can just to keep a roof over our heads, let alone be both a mom and a dad to her. It's not enough, it will _never_ be enough."

Luke sensed she wasn't done with her confession, so he simply placed a reassuring hand on her arm and waited patiently for her to continue.

Sucking in a rattled breath, she said, "In the past, I've been able to step in wherever Christopher couldn't; you know, fill those shoes. And today I offered to take his place in the Daddy Daughter Dance at her school but she told me I couldn't do it because all the other kids were dancing with dads or uncles or whatever and it would be weird to have her mom up dancing because I'm a _girl_. She's been practicing for weeks and is unbelievably excited, but today she asked if she could hide out in the bathroom while it was on, rather than dancing with me. I get it you know? I'm not upset with her for thinking that, but I guess it's just really hit home that I will never be all she needs. My love for her isn't enough. The opportunities I can provide her aren't enough. No matter how hard I try, I will never be enough." Lorelai's voice shook as she finished speaking, but she refused to let the tears pooling in her eyes escape down her cheeks.

"Lorelai…," Luke began, but was cut off by a teenage Caesar screaming from the kitchen for Luke to help.

Luke tried to wave him off but after hearing his panicked babbling about a pressure cooker being ready to explode, Luke was forced to turn on his heel, Lorelai urging him to go.

By the time Luke had managed the kitchen crisis and calmed Caesar down sufficiently, Rory had returned to the table where her mother was seated. He watched as Lorelai plastered a false smile on her face, her shoulders back in her usual fearless pose, listening to Rory babble on animatedly about her catch-up with Lane minutes before.

As he quickly tended to the various requests for coffee refills around the busy diner, Luke tried to collect his thoughts and quickly formulate some kind of response that he could say to Lorelai to show he cared without alerting Rory to their previous conversation. Before he could form the words, Lorelai and Rory rose from their chairs and approached the counter where Caesar was manning the register. Trying desperately to extract himself from a conversation with Babette about Taylor's latest ridiculous law, Luke watched as Rory stood on her tiptoes and handed over a few dollar bills from her mom's purse.

His eyes caught Lorelai's from across the room, silently pleading with his friend to understand how highly he thought of her as a parent.

Lorelai gestured to the donut display, silently mouthing 'thank you' as she followed her daughter out of the diner.

-o-

He hadn't seen her all day.

It wasn't that unusual. As a single mother with mortgage repayments, she didn't have much spare cash to spend, so she ate at the inn more often than she dined elsewhere, treating herself to his coffee a few times per week and even the occasional burger with Rory when funds allowed.

Hell, he would have let them eat at the diner for free every day if he thought she would accept it. As it was, it was hard enough to get her to accept a muffin or a coffee on the house. Yesterday had been a rare exception. He didn't push the issue; she liked to pay her own way and he respected that — admired it, even. He just wished she'd accept help a little more often.

Each time the bells on the door rang to signal a new arrival, his eyes would dart to the entryway, searching for her raven hair and laughing blue eyes. By the time the dinner rush rolled around, he was convinced she wasn't coming. She rarely ate out late on a weeknight, conscious that Rory needed to get to bed early in readiness for school the following morning. The Gilmore girls didn't do so well with early morning starts.

After working his way around the room topping up cups of coffee, Luke spared a quick glance at his watch. 7.50pm. Casting an eye around the busy diner, he noticed everyone had been served and was enjoying their meal. If he was quick, he could make it to Lorelai's house and back before the post-dinner coffee and dessert crowd filed in. He dumped the rag he was holding and poked his head into the kitchen, letting Caesar know he was heading out and would be back shortly.

Bypassing the beat-up old truck he'd inherited from his dad, Luke set off toward the Crap Shack on foot, anxiously going over what he wanted to say in his mind while also questioning his sanity. Was he really doing this?

Looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was around, Luke silently walked over to Taylor's perfectly manicured lawn, stealthily plucking a fragrant rose from his front garden. _Knowing Taylor, he probably has CCTV footage of me doing that and I'll never hear the end of it_ , he thought with a grimace. Picking up the pace, he jogged the couple of blocks to the Gilmore residence, pleased to see the lights were on inside.

Lorelai heard a knock on the door right as the timer buzzed on the oven announcing the Tater Tots were ready. Eager to see who was at the door, Rory jumped from her seat at the kitchen table and headed for the foyer.

"You know the drill babe," she heard Lorelai call from the kitchen. "Safety first my precious one. Only open the door if it's someone we know and trust. Or The Bangles. Or someone that's exceptionally good looking."

Rolling her eyes at her mother's antics, Rory peeked outside finding Luke waiting patiently on the front porch. She opened the door to him, a shy grin adorning her face as they exchanged greetings.

"Are you here to see my mom? She's almost finished in the kitchen," Rory explained.

"Actually, I'm here to see you if you've got a minute?"

Rory nodded, encouraging Luke to go on.

After pulling the Tater Tots from the oven and setting them on the counter top, Lorelai poked her head into the foyer to check on Rory and see who their guest was. She spied Luke pulling a beautiful pink rose from behind his back, then crouching slightly at the knees to meet Rory's eye height.

"So, I…uh…I heard there's a special dance happening at your school next week. Is that right?" Lorelai heard him ask, his voice soft.

Rory nodded, her brow creased in confusion.

"Right. Yeah. Well, um…I wanted to ask you — and you can, you know, say no if that's what you want because I'm not the best dancer in the world — but I wondered if you would do me the honor of being my dance partner?"

Taking a silent step into the foyer, Lorelai felt a fluttering sensation in her stomach, moisture pooling in her eyes as she watched her friend offer the rose to Rory.

Noticing the movement, Luke's eyes locked on Lorelai's for a moment, holding her shocked gaze briefly before giving her a fleeting smile and turning his attention back to the youngest Gilmore.

"Really?" Rory asked disbelievingly, her small hand reaching out to accept the flower.

"Really," Luke confirmed. "Although I should warn you, there's a good chance I may have two left feet so I can't guarantee I'll be a star performer. You might need to give me some tips."

Rory's grin spread from ear to ear. Shyness gone, she lunged at his waist, her arms outstretched as she squealed delightedly and said, "I would LOVE to be your dance partner Luke! Thank you for asking me!"

Lorelai felt like her heart would explode as she watched Luke return Rory's hug, patting her on the back a little awkwardly. Pulling away, Rory bounced up and down on her feet in delight and began to babble about the dance and how she'd have to teach Luke the steps. Catching sight of her mother, she started talking a mile a minute, making sure Lorelai had heard what happened. Lorelai oohed and ahhed appropriately, stroking her daughter's hair as she steered her shoulders toward the kitchen, encouraging her to get started on the Tater Tots before they got cold.

Turning her attention to Luke, she once again felt the tears welling in her eyes, and quickly forced down the lump that was fast forming in her throat.

"Luke, I…thank you," she breathed, her voice shaky for the second time in two days.

Shrugging, Luke looked down at his feet and murmured, "Don't mention it. Couldn't have her spending all that time practicing for nothing."

"No, really," Lorelai pressed. "You have no idea what that means to me. And to Rory."

"Actually, the whole squealing in the ear thing kinda gave her thoughts away," Luke chuckled, pleased to have been the cause of her happiness.

Lorelai laughed, bestowing him with a genuine smile. "If you think that's bad, wait until she's put you through your paces at the rehearsal."

Luke just smiled, unsure of what to say next.

"So, umm…I know you're more of a celery stick kinda guy but wanna join us? We were just about to devour the Tater Tots and watch an episode of _Friends_ before Rory heads to bed."

"I um…thanks, but I actually need to get back. I left Caesar in charge so if yesterday's pressure cooker incident is anything to go by, then the diner's probably on fire by now," Luke said with a rueful smile.

"Oh, sure, of course. You should definitely get back. I can't see smoke on the skyline yet, so with any luck you should make it there in time to douse the flames before it gets too out of control."

Holding one another's gaze, neither made a move to leave until Rory appeared in the foyer, a bowl of Tater Tots clasped in her hands.

"You gonna watch _Friends_ with us Luke?" she asked excitedly.

Tearing his eyes from Lorelai's he turned to Rory and shook his head. "I'd love to Squirt but unfortunately, I've gotta get back to the diner to finish my shift. Maybe I could take a rain check though?"

Rory nodded vigorously, adding, "Yeah, maybe you could come around one night so I can show you the dance and we could watch an episode then."

"If your mom's okay with that, then I think it sounds like a plan," he agreed with a smile.

Full of excitement, Rory bounced off into the lounge room, preparing to hit play on the video.

"Well I guess I better…" Luke trailed off, gesturing in the direction of the diner.

"Yeah, I guess so. Thanks again Luke, that was really sweet of you," Lorelai added, following him out onto the porch as he descended the stairs. She watched his muscular form as he retreated across the lawn into the night. When he reached the perimeter of light shining from her porch, he turned back to face her, softly calling her name.

Without a word, their eyes connected. He looked down at his shoes briefly before returning his gaze to hers and uttering, "About the other day…at the diner? For what it's worth, I think you're _more_ than enough."

A moment later, he turned on his heel and strode back toward the diner.

-o-


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** Here it is...chapter two! Thanks for all the kind reviews. I wasn't sure whether anyone would read the story, let alone enjoy it, so the feedback really made my week. THANK YOU!

This chapter might just bring a few less grunts and a slightly more talkative side of Luke. Those pesky Gilmore girls seem to have a knack for getting him to say and do things he normally wouldn't ;)

Would love to hear your thoughts!

-o-

"Apparently my daughter's cheaper than I thought," Lorelai huffed as she slid into a seat at the diner counter, humor dancing in her eyes.

Luke raised his eyebrows as he started pouring a coffee, signaling for her to expand on her statement.

"What? No lecture today?" she asked in surprise, gesturing toward the to-go cup he'd slid in front of her without argument.

"No desire to call me by an incorrect name today?" he countered, noticing the absence of 'Duuukkkke' being crooned in a sing-song voice as she'd entered the diner.

"Yeah, well," she smiled. "You've single-handedly put my daughter on cloud nine so I think you've earned the right to be called by your rightful name."

Luke gave a nod, gesturing to the coffee cup as he said, "Well in that case, I guess what's one extra day of stunting your growth in order to fuel your caffeine addiction?"

Refusing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Lorelai quickly scooped up the cup with a smile, dropping a few dollar bills on the counter.

"So you were saying?" he added, returning to their original conversation.

"Oh yeah. I teach Rory the ways of the world, try to build her a collection of all the books she loves so much, put a roof over her head…you know, generally cater to her every need; then you sidle in with a rose and a dance invitation and suddenly it's 'Luke' this, 'Luke' that. You're quite the rock star in our household at the moment."

"Bigger than Bowie, huh?" he said dryly, secretly pleased to hear Rory was so happy.

"Something like that. Although you better look out…I think she'll be mailing out the wedding invitations any day now."

Luke let out a quick snort of laughter. "I have a feeling little miss goody-two-shoes might change her mind about that when she finds out where that rose came from," he added with a smirk.

Pausing to think for a moment, realization finally dawned on her. "You stole it from Taylor's garden didn't you?" she gasped, her jaw dropping in mock outrage.

"You'll die trying to get a confession out of me."

"All this time, I thought you were the perfect suiter and now I'll have to break my daughter's heart and tell her her future husband is nothing but a thief," she declared with false indignation.

"Ah well, if I decide to give up the life of crime, she'll be the first to know. Whatever happened to the good old days when chicks dug badasses?"

Lorelai gave a snort. "Is that how you used to pull the ladies back in the day? Beat up kids in the playground? Stole their lunch money? Swung on the monkey bars one-handed?"

"I didn't choose the thug life Lorelai; the thug life chose me," he deadpanned.

"Yeah well, we'll see how badass you truly are when Rory's waltzing you around the dancefloor alongside 20 other 10-year-olds this week."

Luke cringed, mentally cursing himself for willingly signing up for a sizable dose of public humiliation.

"Admit it burger boy; she's got you wrapped around her little finger. Don't feel bad though…it's physically impossible to say no to those baby blues and that pout. She's got it down to a fine art."

"Gee, I wonder where she learnt that from," he grumbled, busying himself with the coffee machine. Turning back to her, he said, "So pray tell, when does the torture begin?"

"Well the dance is on Friday, so how about she runs you through the steps on Wednesday night? 6pm at my place work for you?"

Luke nodded. "No worries, I'll have Caesar close up."

"Great, thanks Luke. Dinner's on me. I'll try to make the ordeal as quick and painless as possible, I promise," she added with a wink.

Glancing at her watch, Lorelai bounced to her feet, noticing she had less than 10 minutes until her shift started at the Independence Inn. Leaning over to Mrs Slutsky who was seated a few stools away with her purse resting atop the counter, Lorelai made sure Luke was within earshot before slowly sliding the purse closer to its owner and quipping, "You might wanna keep a close eye on that. You can't be too careful with Luke Lightfingers hanging around. His klepto tendencies are beginning to get out of hand."

Without waiting for his incensed response, Lorelai turned on her heel, flicking her hair back over her shoulder with a mischievous grin and loosely waving her hand in farewell as she sashayed toward the front door.

 _Damn_. Those Gilmore girls were going to be the death of him.

-o-

"Honey, you know he's not going to be here for at least another half hour, yeah?" Lorelai called to her daughter, who was staked out on the front porch, excitedly awaiting Luke's arrival.

"I know, but I just thought I'd wait here in case he's early. Besides, it's warm out, so I like being outside," she reasoned.

"There's Mommy's little stalker," Lorelai murmured with a smirk.

Truth be told, Lorelai was looking forward to Luke's visit too. She hadn't seen him since her brief stop at the diner on Monday morning, conscious that splurging on Chinese for dinner would leave her with limited funds for other luxuries like his mouth-watering coffee. She found herself checking her watch a little more often than usual, noting how slowly the minutes appeared to be ticking by. God, was she that starved of adult company that her daughter's living room dance rehearsal somehow sounded appealing?

A few minutes before six, she heard Rory call "Luke!" across the front yard, a smile evident in her tone. "Mom, he's here!"

Lorelai made her way out to the front porch, smiling as she saw Rory take hold of Luke's hand and pull him across the lawn excitedly.

"How you doin' Squirt?" he asked good-naturedly. "Good day at school?"

"Yes!" Rory beamed, her cheeks flushed with excitement for the evening ahead. "Mrs. Foster taught us about alkaline earth metals."

"She did huh?"

"Yep. Did you know that barium is the heaviest member of group two of the periodic table? And that it has an atomic mass of 137.34?" Rory asked, her forehead frowning in concentration as she strained to remember the correct numbers from her textbook.

Before Luke could answer, she continued babbling. "And did you know that to extract beryllium, you first need to convert the ores to beryllium oxide or beryllium hydroxide, then convert those compounds to beryllium chloride or beryllium fluoride before using an electric current? And did you know that beryllium is transparent to x-rays, which is why it's sometimes used to make the windows in x-ray machines? And did you know that I had my wrist x-rayed a month ago and I might have _seen_ beryllium on the machine if that machine had those windows but I didn't even know about it then to be able to check?"

Rory's eyes were as big as saucers as she recounted her newly learned facts, only drawing breath when she finished her torrent of information by the front door.

"Umm wow…no I didn't know that," Luke responded, struggling to process her words which had been spoken at warp speed. Glancing at Lorelai out of the corner of his eye, he muttered, "You got any idea what all that means?"

"Not a clue," Lorelai laughed. "Science was never my strong point. Straight As in lunchtime gossip if that's of use though."

"That's umm…quite a lot you learned today Rory. You're a smart cookie," He complimented. "How's your wrist doing by the way? How did you hurt it?"

"Dancing at Miss Patty's," she shrugged. "It's fine now though. It was just a sprain."

"Dancing?" he queried Lorelai as she led them inside the house. "You sure it's such a great idea she risks hurting it again at the dance this week?"

Lorelai was about to tease him for trying to get out of the school activity, but refrained when she turned to face him and saw genuine concern in his eyes.

"Her gym abilities I'm afraid to say she _did_ inherit from me," Lorelai laughed. "It's a slow dance, so I'm sure she'll be fine. And worst case scenario, even if she does take a tumble, she'll at least have a partner in crime to catch her this time around. I'm counting on you to keep her upright."

Luke nodded, glancing over at Rory's wrist with worry.

"Seriously Luke, she's golden, aren't you baby? No fracture and it healed up in a few days. Even got to rock a hot pink Barbie bandage at school."

Rory nodded enthusiastically.

"So, can I get you a drink Luke? Water? Ice tea? Pina colada with a side of getting caught in the rain?" Lorelai asked, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch.

"Water's great, thanks."

Returning a moment later with water bottles for all of them, she asked, "So, should we get this party started or what? Crank it, Mr Music."

Rory immediately scampered to the CD player, the opening strains of Kermit the Frog's 'Rainbow Connection' bursting from the speakers.

Watching the muscle twitch in Luke's jaw as he grasped the full extent of the humiliation he'd signed up for, Lorelai did all she could to avoid bursting into laughter in front of Rory and hurting her feelings.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" He deadpanned, daring Lorelai to make so much as one mocking comment.

"Just a little," she replied, her eyes bright with humor and a grin appearing on her lips. "Please sir, step up to our humble dancefloor," she added, gesturing to the living room floor. He offered his hand to Rory, escorting her to the middle of the room and mouthing 'you're dead' to Lorelai when he was sure he was out of Rory's line of vision. Lorelai thought she'd crack a rib from holding back the laughter.

"OK so we start off in this position," Rory instructed, demonstrating the pose. "And when the opening verse starts it's one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four…"

Luke took her tiny hand in his, listening carefully to her softly spoken directions. They slowly coasted around the pseudo-dancefloor, Rory tripping over her feet clumsily from time-to-time as she desperately tried to master each maneuver. Lorelai stood by the CD player, regularly stopping and restarting the tune so they could practice each section.

"Then when we get to this bit, we stand side-by-side and move our left leg….no, wait…our right leg. No, hang on. My left leg, your right leg," Rory decided, her tongue clasped between her teeth in thought. "Mom is that right?"

"Yep sweetie, you got it. Your left leg, Luke's right leg. And then you swap, remember?"

"Yeah, that's right. So we take three steps forward, then kick, then one, two, three, back together."

Her eyes trained on the duo, it didn't escape Lorelai's notice that Luke mastered the steps in no time, the muscles in his upper back straining against the cotton of his shirt as he moved gracefully around the floor, holding tight to Rory.

"One more time from the top," Lorelai cried, checking her watch and noting that over an hour had passed and the Chinese would be delivered any minute. Hearing a knock at the door, she disappeared into the foyer, returning with bags of rice, stir fry and noodles in hand.

"Dinner!" Rory exclaimed gleefully, dropping Luke's hand and seemingly forgetting about him as she ran toward her mother.

"Gee, she sure knows how to make a guy feel good about himself," he joked in mock offence.

"There's Mommy's little girl," she beamed, ruffling Rory's hair as she dove for the fried rice. "What can I say Luke, the kid's got her priorities in order."

They laid out all the food on the coffee table, Lorelai and Luke taking the couch while Rory sat cross-legged on the carpet beside the table.

"So kiddo, what score do you give him out of 10?" Lorelai asked. "He living up to your expectations?"

Rory nodded her head excitedly, thinking hard about Luke's performance. "I'd say a nine," she concluded.

Luke feigned disappointment."Really? Only a nine? Thought I would have been an 11 for sure Squirt."

Rory giggled delightedly, shaking her head. "You can't be an 11 silly…it's only out of 10!"

"Oh my mistake," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes in jest as he dug into his chicken and vegetables. "Is the deduction because I accidentally stepped on your toe?"

"No, I only took off a half point for that. The other half is because there's always room for improvement," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Wow, sounds like she's been hanging out with my parents," Lorelai said dryly so only Luke could hear.

"OK, well if I can never reach the 10, I'm at least going to try to earn that extra half point after dinner. What do you think? Am I in with a shot?"

Rory nodded, the million-watt smile never disappearing from her face. "You're on!"

Lorelai relaxed back into the lounge, marveling at how easily the conversation and banter flowed and how quickly Rory had taken to Luke. Granted, she did see him at the diner once or twice a week so it wasn't like he was a stranger to her, but Rory was usually a lot more reserved around people other than her mother, Sookie, Mia and Lane. She was shy by nature.

After they finished dinner, Luke and Rory resumed their positions, rehearsing the dance from top to bottom a number of times to make sure they had it down pat. "What do you think Squirt? Have we nailed it?" Luke asked. Rory gave him the thumbs up and giggled as he twirled her around in front of him.

"Hey, that's fun! How did you learn to do that?" she asked inquisitively.

"Born that way," he smirked, giving her an exaggerated wink.

"What else can you do?" Rory pondered.

"Hmm, let's see. I can do this…" Luke placed his hands beneath Rory's arms, lifting her slightly so her feet rested on top of his. He then began to waltz around the room with her, stopping to spin her away from him and back in again every now and again.

"Can you dip me like in the movies?" she asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Sure. You're a little too far down for me to do that at the moment, but that's nothing we can't fix," he added, hoisting her up into his arms. "How's that?" he asked, gliding around the room and cradling her back as he paused to dip her time after time.

"SO much fun Luke!" she beamed, breathless from laughter.

Lorelai felt a tug at her heartstrings as she watched her daughter twirl, glide and spin around the living room wrapped securely in Luke's embrace, her little legs dangling a meter off the ground. She looked positively dwarfed against his masculine frame.

"Hey, who said you two could go having all the fun without me?" Lorelai pouted.

"Come and join us Mom!" Rory cried. "And can we play our disco party music, pleeeeeeaaasseee?" she begged.

Lorelai switched the CD in the player, grateful to see the end of 'Rainbow Connection' for the night. Now we're talking!" she exclaimed, the opening bars of Bon Jovi's 'Livin' on a Prayer' blasting through the speakers.

Much to Lorelai's surprise, Luke didn't so much as bat an eyelid at the impromptu dance party. He wasn't exactly rocking out, but he happily swayed from side to side with Rory in his arms as the little girl bopped away, locking hands with her mother mid-dance and singing along to the music loudly. Lorelai rolled up a piece of paper from the coffee table, using it as a makeshift microphone and dancing wildly to song after song.

After a particularly enthusiastic rendition of 'Walking on Sunshine,' the trio flopped down on the couch, breathless and exhausted.

"We should definitely do that more often," Rory giggled, her cheeks rosy from exertion. Still in Luke's arms, she rested her head against his chest, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

"Yeah, that was fun kiddo," Lorelai agreed, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. "Although too much more of that and you'll wear Mommy out," she added with a grin. "On that note, it must be about bedtime for you miss."

"Noooo," Rory complained, clinging to Luke more tightly. "You said we could watch an episode of _Friends_ with Luke. Come on Mom, it's not even 8.30 yet and he's never seen it," she pouted.

"Alright," she sighed, resigned. "If Luke doesn't mind hanging around a bit longer, we can play an episode. It is a crime against humanity that he's never watched it. But then it's off to bed okay? No arguments."

Rory nodded vigorously, glancing up at Luke to confirm he was okay to stay a little longer. Getting the nod of approval, she bounced to her feet, eagerly loading the video into the player and switching on the TV. To both Lorelai's and Luke's surprise, she then returned to the couch, curling up in the crook of Luke's arm.

"Is she okay there?" Lorelai mouthed to Luke over Rory's head, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Smiling, he gave her a brief nod and tightened his hold on the younger Gilmore, turning his eyes to the TV.

By the time the closing credits rolled, Rory was fast asleep nuzzled into Luke's side.

"I guess I better wake her and get her into bed," Lorelai whispered, gesturing to her sleeping daughter.

"I can carry her in so she can continue sleeping if you're not too worried about her skipping teeth brushing or whatever," he offered.

"Oh, that'd be great Luke. Only if you don't mind though."

"No problem," he whispered, gathering Rory into his arms. The girl stirred slightly but didn't wake as she leaned into the warmth of his chest. He walked her to her room, Lorelai following close behind to turn down the covers so he could gently place her on the bed. Once she was snuggled up to Colonel Clucker contentedly, Luke gently smoothed her hair back from her eyes before stepping back toward the doorway.

"I'll just change her into her PJs," Lorelai whispered as Luke made to leave the room. "I'll be out in a minute."

Making his way to the living room, Luke sank down onto the couch closing his eyes and replaying the evening's events over in his mind as he waited for Lorelai to return. Had he seriously just danced to 'Video Killed the Radio Star'? And _willingly_?

She emerged soon after, more bottles of water in hand as she joined him on the couch. Lorelai would have killed for a beer, but she didn't make a habit of keeping alcohol in the house, partly to set a good example for Rory and partly to save funds for more necessary items.

"She all good?" Luke asked, giving her a grateful smile as he took the beverage.

"Yeah, out like a light," Lorelai confirmed. "Somehow, I get the impression she'll sleep well tonight."

"She won't be the only one," Luke laughed. "I have a sneaking suspicion I'm going to be a little sore in the morning."

"Body isn't what it used to be hey old man?" she teased.

"You watch who you're calling old there Gilmore. If memory serves, you're only a few years behind me."

"Ah, but you forget, I'm taking my youthful exuberance with me to the grave," she explained.

"That isn't youthful exuberance so much as caffeine-induced psychosis," he deadpanned.

"You say tomato, I say to-mah-to," she shrugged. "So that was fun," she added, gesturing around the lounge room.

"It was," he agreed, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Although you tell anyone I said that and I'll deny everything, yeah?"

"Scout's honor," she grinned, giving him the three-finger salute. "I thought Kermit was a particularly nice touch on the school's part," she added, aiming to get a rise out of him.

He shot her a stern glare before saying, "Thanks for that. I think all the talk of rainbows and wishes really works well with my image."

"I thought so," Lorelai laughed.

He rolled his eyes before grunting, "You realize you've single-handedly destroyed my carefully crafted reputation in one evening?"

"Now Luke," she clucked. "In my defense, I think a certain blue-eyed 10-year-old might have played a role in that as well. You didn't seem to mind too much when she was bossing you into position."

"And besides," she added. "The full emasculation won't be complete until Friday, so you've still got a couple of good days left in you, Sport."

Luke groaned, covering his face with a cushion and muttering, "What have I gotten myself into?"

They spent the next hour laughing and joking, discussing everything from Kirk's latest business venture — selling sets of three socks, lest one get lost in the wash — right through to the day's scoop from Eastside Tilly and Rory's new fascination with Tolstoy.

When there was finally a break in the conversation, Lorelai teased, "So Danes, when were you planning on telling me you could dance?"

"Oh..uh…I can't really. I just picked up a few of the basics over the years," he shrugged, embarrassed.

"You sure about that? 'Cos I can pick an amateur a mile off and you're not striking me as one of them," she laughed, her eyes sparkling.

"Yeah well, I suppose my mom taught me a couple of things," he answered nonchalantly.

"Your mom, huh?"

"Yeah, she liked to dance."

Lorelai nodded. She'd never heard Luke talk about his parents before.

"What was she like?" she asked, hoping Luke wouldn't brush off the question.

"Constantly moving," he chuckled, looking down at his feet. "That's the thing I remember the most. She had so much damn energy all the time. You'd come home to find her halfway through rearranging the lounge room furniture, or cooking some outrageous concoction she'd dreamed up, or stringing Christmas lights up around the place even when it wasn't December, just because she liked the festive atmosphere."

"She used to play Frank Sinatra and spin me around the living room. Wouldn't take no for an answer. One time I found her baking 50 pies in our tiny kitchen because she found out old man Twickham's grandkid was sick and she thought a pie drive might help raise funds for his treatment. There was flour _everywhere_."

Lorelai laughed, enjoying the insight into his younger years. "She sounds like a great mom."

"She was," he affirmed.

Uncharacteristically talkative, Luke continued on without prompting. "She had this kind of…I don't know… _lightness_ about her. I think that's why she and my dad worked so well together. She lifted him up and he grounded her."

Lorelai nodded. "And your dad?" she pressed gently. "You guys got along well?"

"Yeah, he was a good guy. Quiet. He had this kind of gruff exterior, but it was all for show, you know? Anyone who got to know him knew he was really kind, really genuine. He would have given anyone the shirt off his own back if they needed it."

"He sounds a lot like you," Lorelai acknowledged shyly, tucking her legs up beneath her on the couch and snuggling into the cushions as she fixed her eyes on him.

Luke's cheeks flushed and he shrugged off her comment. "I'm not so sure about that," he murmured. "He was what he was because of Mom. Just ask Mia next time you're at the inn…wherever Maggie went, William followed. They brought out the best in each other. For most people, getting three words out of him was like pulling teeth but with her, it was different — they could talk about everything and nothing for hours. If it hadn't been for her, I think he would have gone on living the hermit life, running the hardware store and kind of keeping to himself."

Lorelai nodded, a smile gracing her lips. "You think you'll ever have what they had?"

Luke shrugged. "Probably not. The chances of finding that person that really complements you and brings out the best in you is one thing, but to have them feel the same way about you? Statistically, it's damn near impossible," he grunted.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Lorelai said, her eyes not quite meeting his. "So what, you don't think you'll ever get married? Start a family?"

"Not unless I can have a bond like my parents had. Now that I've seen how good it can be, I don't think I could settle for anything less. In a way, I think it would be better to be alone than to spend a lifetime with someone that isn't the right match."

 _I want it to be you_ , Luke thought. _You're the Maggie to my William_.

"And you?" Luke hedged, aware he'd monopolized much of the conversation. It wasn't often he found himself conversing so openly, let alone sharing prized memories about his parents. Hell, the only time he'd talked this much in recent times was when he'd fired off expletives at Taylor after he'd tried getting Luke to host a ventriloquism performance at the diner as part of the latest town festival.

"Yeah, pretty well the same," Lorelai agreed. "I mean, for me it's not about wanting what my parents had. Don't get me wrong, they're well-suited to each other, but we just value different things. I want someone I can cuddle up to even when my hair's everywhere, I'm in my worn-out sweats and I look like an absolute mess after a long day at work; someone that's not looking for a trophy wife so much as a companion. Someone that engages with my daughter and would prefer to be hands on with her rather than handing her over to a nanny. That's the biggest thing for me. Rory _always_ has to come first. You know, I've never introduced to her to any of the guys I've dated. I've never had a guy stay over in our home. Hell, I've never had a guy in the _house_ , except for tradespeople and…well…you," she added meekly.

Luke's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered his neutral expression, encouraging her to go on.

"My point is I can't afford to get into a serious relationship with anyone unless I know that it's not going to be short-lived and that it's not going to impact negatively on Rory. I've worked so hard to give her a stable home environment and I'd hate to jeopardize that for the sake of a fling. If I ever decide to invite a man into our lives as my partner — and that's a big if — it will need to be the right guy. Someone I can trust and someone I can see a future with. That's supposing he hasn't already run for the hills when he finds out I'm a single mother."

"And Christopher?" Luke added quietly, fixing his stare on hers and sinking back further into the couch cushions. "Do you ever think you'd try to make it work with him?"

Lorelai exhaled, pulling absentmindedly at a wayward thread sticking out from the cushion she was holding.

"I'll admit, there was a time when I considered it. Rory's always been hung up on the idea of having the perfect nuclear family and of course, it would have been a godsend to have someone around to help raise her, particularly in the early years when I was still figuring out how to be an adult, let alone a mom. I always thought if he really pushed the idea of marriage, showed up on our doorstep, told me he wasn't accepting no for an answer and truly wanted to make a go of things, I would have entertained the idea. But his proposal was driven more by obligation than anything else and I had no intention of being with someone that only offered to marry me because it was the 'right' thing to do. He never said it, but I know he was relieved when I said no. He practically jumped on the first plane out of Hartford in his rush to get away."

She sighed before continuing on.

"More than anything, I think I liked the _idea_ of Christopher, not the reality. He wasn't mature enough to be the father figure Rory needed and the partner I desperately wanted to lean on. At the end of the day, he was never enough for us, no matter how much we both wanted to believe he was."

A comfortable silence hung between them for a moment, each taking a moment to absorb Lorelai's words. Finally, Luke murmured, "You know, I've never been a big fan of Christopher's for picking up and leaving you and Rory to fend for yourselves, but he's even stupider than I gave him credit for."

Lorelai cocked an eyebrow, unsure of what he was getting at.

"He had two incredible Gilmore women offered to him on a silver platter and he knocked it back. Are you sure he wasn't dropped on his head as a baby?" He asked, the corners of his lips turning up at the sides.

Lorelai offered him a fleeting smile, twisting a stray lock of hair around her finger before casting her eyes down at her lap. _Was Luke suggesting that he wouldn't say no to the Gilmore package deal? Or was he just trying to make her feel good about herself and compliment Rory? Yes, that must be it._

When Lorelai didn't respond, Luke glanced at his watch and noticed it was past 11. Clearing his throat, he rose from the couch and said, "Wow, where did the time go? I should let you get to bed."

Lorelai nodded, following him to the door as he pulled on his jacket and stepped out onto the front porch.

"So…ah…thanks for the Chinese and the _Friends_ initiation," he said. "I had a great time."

"Yeah, me too," Lorelai agreed, pleased that she'd been able to see a bit more of the man behind the flannel shirt and the gruff exterior, their usual banter taking a backseat for part of the evening.

"Luke?" She added softly, imploring him to look her in the eye.

His head snapped up as she took a step toward him, resting her hands on his forearms briefly as she pecked a feather light kiss on his cheek and added, "Thank you for everything. You are too good to us."

-o-

"Coffee, coffee, coffee," Lorelai called as she pushed through the doors of the Independence Inn kitchen, setting her sights on the steaming brew on the far counter.

"Rough night, huh?" Sookie called, stepping out of Lorelai's path. The sous chef knew better than to get between her best friend and coffee.

"No, great night actually Sook," Lorelai countered as the warm liquid seeped down her throat. "Just tired, that's all. Oh, morning Mia," she added, noticing the woman's presence as she leaned back against the kitchen cupboards.

"Hello sweetheart. How's that precious daughter of yours? What mischief did you two get up to last night?"

"She's great thanks. Getting smarter every day, I swear. We just ordered takeout, hung out at home watching _Friends_ and Luke popped by so she could put him through his paces in preparation for the dance at school this Friday."

"Lucas?" Mia quizzed.

"Yeah, you know. Tall guy, flannel shirt, backwards baseball cap, monosyllabic, has a weird appreciation for carrot sticks and all things plaid…"

Sookie rolled her eyes.

"Surprisingly, I'm well aware of who he _is_ Lorelai," Mia explained exasperatedly. "I'm just wondering why he's getting dance lessons from your daughter. Wasn't Christopher meant to be coming to town for it? Rory's been talking about his visit for weeks."

"Yeah well, you know Christopher. Why bother visiting your daughter when you could be at a White Sox game instead?"

"You're kidding!" Sookie gasped.

"I wish I was," Lorelai grumbled.

Mia sighed. "I'm so sorry honey. Rory must be devastated."

"Yeah, she took it pretty hard to begin with but she's over the moon now her knight in shining plaid has stepped in to lend a hand."

Sookie clapped her hands excitedly, knocking a salad off the bench in her excitement at the mention of Luke saving the day. "Sorry Mia!" she apologized, immediately dropping to her knees to begin cleaning the mess.

Mia waved her apology off, returning her attention to Lorelai and asking, "So how did you ever get Lucas to agree to that? He hates dancing in public!"

"He offered," Lorelai shrugged. "It didn't even cross my mind to ask him because I know he hates having all eyes on him, but he heard about Christopher pulling out and said he'd take his place."

Sookie let out an excited squeal from her place on the floor, quickly changing it to a poorly disguised cough when Mia shot her a warning look from the corner of her eye. They both wanted to see Luke and Lorelai together, but Mia knew Lorelai couldn't be coerced into it and needed to make the decision in her own time. A little nudge in the right direction wouldn't go astray though, she reasoned.

"It was kind of sweet actually," Lorelai continued. "He showed up at the house over the weekend with a rose for Rory and asked her to be his date to the dance. Then he spent a couple of hours last night patiently waltzing her around the lounge room. It must have been torture for the poor guy. Who would have thought macho Luke Danes would have a soft spot for my little girl?"

"More like _both_ Gilmore girls," Sookie murmured under her breath.

"Sorry Sook?" Lorelai queried, missing the comment.

"Nothing, nothing, just grumbling to myself about the salad hon," she said, waving her hand dismissively, continuing to pick up lettuce leaves from the floor.

"Well I think it's lovely that Lucas is taking her," Mia acknowledged. "I've known him his whole life and I'm yet to come across a kinder soul. He's one of the good ones," she added with a nod.

"Oh yeah, he mentioned last night that you knew his mom and dad. Were you family friends?" Lorelai queried.

"The very best of friends," Mia confirmed. "Everyone used to call his mom, me and another lady, Maisy — you might know her from a place called Sniffy's Tavern — the troublesome trio," she laughed.

"Maggie, Mia, and Maisy — the three 'M's. And boy did we get up to some mischief in our time…we were practically glued at the hip for years. And when Maggie fell head over heels for William, I got to know him very well too. We remained great friends until they both passed," she added despondently.

"I'm so sorry Mia. Do you mind me asking what they passed away from?"

"Cancer got them both in the end," she explained sadly. "Maggie went first. It was a wretched thing. She was always such a lively, vivacious and witty woman, and so much fun to be around — you remind me of her very much actually — but the cancer eventually sucked the light from her. It was a horrible thing for William, Lucas and little Liz to watch. I don't think William ever quite recovered. It was like he'd lost an extension of himself when Maggie passed and he wasn't sure how to keep on functioning. He threw himself into his work at the hardware store, pulling long days and spending what time he could with the kids. But I think even that was hard for him."

"A few years down the track, Lucas was preparing to head off to college on a sporting scholarship when William was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It was fairly advanced by the time they caught it and there wasn't much the doctors could do. Lucas stayed in Stars Hollow to care for his father and sister and keep the hardware store running so they could fund the medical bills. The whole town rallied together to help as much as possible, but poor Lucas took on all the strain. He was always the stronger of the two kids."

"Whatever happened to Liz?" Lorelai pondered. "I've never seen her around Stars Hollow."

Mia sighed.

"Liz was a bit of a dreamer and she didn't cope well with the grief, which was understandable. She ended up running away from home with some good-for-nothing boyfriend, who had her pregnant in no time and took all her cash with him as he sailed out the door. It damn near broke William's heart and I know it really affected Lucas. I think he still blames himself for Liz leaving, although there was nothing he could have done to stop her. To this day, he bails her out whenever she gets herself into trouble. He's constantly sending her and the little boy, Jess, money and finding them a new apartment whenever Liz gets evicted for whatever reason. She tends to move around a bit. Lucas has even offered to raise Jess while Liz sorts herself out but of course, she always refuses. Anyone else would have given up on her by now but Luke shows up every time she needs a hand. By God is he dependable; through thick or thin, he always shows up."

Lorelai nodded, processing the information as she sipped her coffee.

"So Luke never went back to pursue college?" she asked.

Mia shook her head.

"No, by the time William passed away, the medical bills had piled up and Lucas was in a lot of debt. He was forced to sell the family home and was left with a failing hardware store and nowhere to live. Both Maisy and I offered to take him in but naturally, he wanted his own space. I think he needed a bit of time on his own to recover. He moved into his dad's old office above the store."

"There were a number of bigger chain stores popping up in neighboring towns, and it was only a matter of time before the hardware shop went out of business," Mia continued. "That was kind of the final nail in the coffin for Lucas. He'd lost both of his parents, felt like he'd failed his sister and nephew, given up the home he'd grown up in and was slowly watching his father's business go down the drain. I think he saw the store as the final link to his parents and it would have been too much for him to let it go. So he took out a loan, renovated the space and turned it into a diner. I don't think that had always been his career ambition, but his mom had spent a lot of time teaching him to cook and he was good at it, so I think it was a way to keep his dad's beloved shop and hold onto the memories of his mom."

"Wow, poor Luke," Lorelai breathed. "I knew losing his parents had hit him hard but I never realized how much he went through."

"Yes, he's had a pretty tough time for someone so young," Mia agreed. "You know, it's amazing he's turned out the way he has. He could have gone off the rails like Liz or become a really angry and bitter person, but if anything, I think the whole ordeal has just made him stronger and even more compassionate. At face value, he can come across a little gruff, and we all know he likes the occasional rant, but if you ask me, it's just a kind of defense mechanism. He is unbelievably generous and loyal to the people he loves."

"He's kinda like a golden retriever," Sookie mused. "You know…super loyal and will always come when he's called. Not to mention strong, muscular, intelligent and very trainable. I tell you, you the woman that gets to rub his belly is one lucky girl…"

"Sookie!" Lorelai and Mia chided simultaneously.

She merely shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Hey, don't judge me. I'm just saying what everybody hot-blooded female that has ever laid eyes on the guy is thinking."

Turning her attention back to Lorelai, Mia said, "Golden retriever or not, I think it's lovely that Lucas is looking out for you and Rory. It sounds like you had a wonderful night."

"Yeah, it was fun," Lorelai agreed. "Rory's practically in love with the guy and he was really patient with her. We also got the chance to just chill out and talk for a bit once Rory passed out. I mean, I love my baby girl, but sometimes a conversation with a real adult can be just what the doctor ordered. I usually only get that when I'm at work."

Sookie snorted. "Monosyllabic man speaks? You mean you actually managed to get a full sentence out of him?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Lorelai confirmed. "He talked quite a bit actually."

"Well he must have felt very comfortable with you if he did that _and_ mentioned his parents," Mia piped in. "He'll barely speak to Liz, Maisy or I about them, let alone anyone else."

Lorelai shrugged, her brow creased in confusion. "Oh…well I must have just caught him on a good night then. Maybe dancing like a lunatic with a 10-year-old helps loosen your inhibitions. Who knows?"

Downing the last of her coffee, Lorelai placed the empty mug in the dishwasher unaware of Sookie subtly raising an eyebrow in Mia's direction while her back was turned. She farewelled the women, excusing herself to tend to the front desk.

The moment she was gone, both Sookie and Mia let out simultaneous high-pitched squeals, overjoyed to hear Lorelai was at last beginning to see Luke as something more than just her coffee supplier. The sexual tension between the two had been palpable since day one, so Mia and Sookie figured it was only a matter of time before something blossomed between them.

"Operation Golden Retriever is in motion!" Sookie exclaimed excitedly.

"Baby steps Sookie, baby steps."

-o-


	3. Chapter 3

Luke paused at the entrance to Stars Hollow Elementary, his hands on his hips as he stared up at the building he'd spent so many years in as a boy. Despite the decades that had passed, the school looked largely the same, its corridors teeming with children as they made their way back to class at the shrill sound of the bell ringing. Some things never changed.

Working his way through the labyrinth of corridors, he located the gymnasium and pushed through the set of heavy wooden doors, scanning the room for any sign of Lorelai or Rory. Barely a moment later, the younger Gilmore appeared at his heels, her face illuminated with an excited smile.

"Luke, you came!" She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Of course I came, Squirt," he replied, ruffling her hair. "Wouldn't have missed it for the world."

Tugging on his hand, Rory led Luke over to where many of the parents and students had congregated. Lorelai was yet to arrive. They came to a stop in the middle of the gymnasium, an athletic looking man in his early 30s who could have passed as a body builder offering Luke a nod in greeting.

"You must be Rory's dad," he said, extending his hand to Luke.

"Oh…actually, uh…"

"He's my dad for the day," Rory interjected helpfully. "My real dad lives in Chicago so he couldn't make it."

"Luke Danes," Luke added, returning the man's handshake. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," the man said. "I'm Lincoln Green. That's my little man Connor right over there," he added, gesturing to a sandy-haired boy doing handstands on the wooden floor. Luke watched as the boy returned to his feet upon hearing his class teacher call the students forward.

Offering Rory a quick smile, Luke watched as she scampered away, taking a seat on the floor beside Lane.

"So how'd you get roped into all this?" Lincoln asked, a slight smirk gracing his lips as he glanced around the gymnasium.

"Patented Gilmore pout," Luke murmured, his lips turning up at the sides. "No sucker's been able to say no to it yet so I figured I may as well just give in before they even bothered pulling out that particular piece of weaponry. It was bound to happen eventually."

"So you and Lorelai, huh? I didn't know she was seeing anybody"

"Oh, um…no. We're just friends," Luke supplied awkwardly.

The man let out a low whistle before saying, "Man, that's rough. All of the duties without any of the perks, if you know what I mean." The pointed wink and suggestive leer was enough to get Luke off-side. "If I was putting up with that shit for some bratty kid that wasn't even my own, I'd at least be expecting a little action on the side to sweeten the deal."

The muscle flexed in Luke's jaw, his hands clenching at his sides as he fought hard to refrain from sinking a fist down the guy's throat.

"Rory's not a brat," he said firmly, doing his best to keep his anger in check. "And I'm here because I want to be. Lorelai's a good friend."

"Well you're a better man than me," Lincoln added, oblivious to Luke's irritation. "I had to put up with weeks of whining from my ex before I agreed to come. Only gave in to keep the peace. The woman was a banshee in another life, I swear," he added snidely.

Luke had heard enough. Searching for an excuse to extract himself from the conversation, he was relieved to see Lorelai enter the gym doors, her dark curls bouncing as she hitched her handbag higher on her shoulder and hurried toward the crowd of parents. He saw Lincoln give her an appreciative glance, his gaze travelling from her three-inch heels to her fitted business skirt and finally coming to rest on her chest. Luke was ready to punch the guy's lights out.

Excusing himself, Luke made his way toward Lorelai, reveling in the million-watt smile she imparted when her eyes located his in the crowd.

"Sorry I'm late," she breathed, her cheeks flushed from her hurried journey to the school. "We had a group of 10 arrive to check in just as I was about to leave. I practically had to run half the way here. In heels," she added with a grimace.

"Will wonders never cease?" Luke teased. "Who knew Lorelai Gilmore could run? Next you'll tell me you've kicked the coffee habit and you had a tuna salad for lunch."

"When hell freezes over, Bucko," she returned quickly. "Now that you mention lunch though, I could really go some chilli fries."

Luke rolled his eyes, gesturing for her to walk ahead of him toward the bleachers where some of the other parents were beginning to sit down.

Tapping the microphone to get everyone's attention, Rory's teacher, Mrs. Foster, called the group to order.

"Good afternoon and a very warm welcome to Stars Hollow Elementary," she began. "Firstly, a big thank you to all of the parents and caregivers who have taken time out of their day to join in our Father's Day celebrations today. I know our Grade Five students are very excited to have you here and we're looking forward to a jam-packed afternoon of activities."

"As you may be aware, our students have been learning about the history of Father's Day in class this week, looking at different family structures and partaking in a number of craft activities. One of our most important learnings was that not all families are the same, and that sometimes a father figure could be a brother, an uncle, a grandfather, a family friend…the list goes on. So whether you're a dad or another relative or friend that steps into that role from time-to-time, today is all about saying thank you for the brilliant job you do."

Continuing on, Mrs. Foster said, "I'm conscious that we're going to be pressed for time to get through each of the afternoon's activities, so I'd like to kick off proceedings by inviting all of the dads and sons to the floor to deliver a hip-hop number they've been working on. We'll then follow with the Daddy Daughter Dance before moving over to the desks that have been assembled to our left to complete a series of challenges. Gentlemen, if you could please take your positions…"

"There was a hip-hop option and I'm doing a _waltz_?" Luke growled, glaring at Lorelai.

"What? More comfortable bustin' a move wit' yo' homies are you Danes?" Lorelai teased.

"Careful what you say Gilmore. You push my buttons and I might just bust a cap in your ass."

Lorelai laughed, returning her gaze to the boys and dads assembled on the dancefloor. "Next time I accidentally get knocked up, I'll be sure to keep my fingers crossed for a boy for situations exactly like this one. It was really inconsiderate of me not to think of the ramifications when I popped out a girl all those years ago."

They silenced their conversation as the opening bars of the music sounded across the gym, the boys and their dads moving about the floor in unison as they attempted to chest pop, body roll and kick-step to the beat.

Minutes later, it was Luke's turn to take to the floor, Lorelai goading him with a wolf whistle as he made his way down the bleachers. Seeking out Rory, he offered her his hand with a soft smile, guiding her into position amongst the other dads and daughters.

The excited energy coursing through Rory was unmistakable, the young girl practically bouncing on the spot as she held tight to Luke's hand and eagerly awaited the opening strains of 'Rainbow Connection.'

"You all good, Squirt?" Luke whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. She nodded enthusiastically, delighted to be standing alongside Luke in front of all her friends.

Lorelai watched on as Luke and Rory exchanged a few words, her daughter's infectious smile stretching from ear to ear. She couldn't help but notice that Luke — while still wearing his usual blue jeans that hugged his backside just so — had traded his signature flannel for a slightly more formal black collared shirt. He looked good.

As Luke and Rory paraded around the dancefloor, Lorelai winced as her daughter stumbled clumsily, thankful that Luke was able to steady her before she could fall. Miss Patty certainly didn't have a star ballerina in the making, but Lorelai had to hand it to her; Rory definitely deserved points for persistence.

When the song drew to a close, Lorelai watched as Rory instinctively threw her arms around Luke's waist, her usual shyness all but gone. Luke following behind, Rory bounded over to Lorelai, breathing "Mom, I did it! I didn't fall!"

"You did good kid," Lorelai affirmed affectionately, pulling her daughter in for a hug. "You guys were the star couple. A regular Fred and Ginger"

"Helps when you have a good teacher to show you the steps," Luke winked, prompting Rory to flush with pride.

As Mrs. Foster led the group in a round of applause and called for the parents and students to make their way over to the desks for the next activity, Lorelai turned to Luke and said, "Thank you so much for helping us out Luke; you're a lifesaver. We'll let you off the hook now…I can take over from here if you wanna get back to the diner."

"Actually, I rostered myself off for the afternoon so I'm good to stay…that is, if you guys want me around," he added awkwardly, looking down at his shoes. "Otherwise I can get out of your hair."

"You're staying?" Rory squealed delightedly.

"Good luck getting out of it now," Lorelai laughed, her eyes flashing an even brighter shade of blue than usual. "You know we might actually have a chance of winning one of the challenges with Luke in the mix, kiddo," she added thoughtfully, throwing a smile in Luke's direction.

"Lead on," Luke instructed, gesturing for both women to make their way ahead of him to the activity area.

Their first challenge was to design a paper airplane that could be pitted against the other students' creations to see whose could fly the furthest. After discussing a number of options and coming up with a few sub-par prototypes, Luke took hold of a fresh piece of paper and said, "This is one I used to make as a kid and I bet it can pack some punch if we throw it right."

Demonstrating each of the folds for Rory and getting her to help with creasing the paper, he explained, "It's called the hammerhead and it can go pretty fast. Yep...just fold the corners in again there so the edge meets the crease there," he added, talking Rory through the steps patiently.

Holding up their handiwork, he pointed out some of the features that made it so effective at flying through the air.

"See, it's got this weighted tip on the front which gives it a little more thrust. The harder and faster you throw it, the better the outcome."

"Dirty!" Lorelai exclaimed audaciously so only Luke could hear, eliciting a pointed eye roll from him.

Refusing to respond to her comment, he pushed on saying, "The key is to build something that minimizes friction with the air around it — that's what we call an aerodynamic design." Rory nodded, ever the model student as she listened attentively to his explanation.

"The good thing about this design is that there aren't a lot of things sticking out the sides or anything. That reduces the drag as the plane flies through the air. If we don't decorate it with too many heavy things either then it should be able to fight against gravity pulling it down to the ground for a little bit longer than some of the other kids' planes."

"So no glitter?" Lorelai pouted, holding up a container of the pink substance hopefully.

"Well maybe just a little," he conceded, unwilling to disappoint the team's self-appointed chief stylist. Both Lorelai and Rory beamed at his words. "No pom-poms though," he growled as the girls set about decorating the plane.

Ten minutes later, the aptly named 'Sparkle Racer' made its maiden flight across the gymnasium, the Gilmore girls letting out an excited cheer as it landed almost five meters away from them.

"Good job Squirt," Luke complimented, impressed with Rory's throw. They staged a few more test runs, some failing miserably as Rory let go of the plane too late and some resulting in the plane gliding smoothly across the room.

"Try and let go of the plane before you start bringing your hand back down to your side," Luke instructed helpfully. "That way, it's less likely to hit the floor straight away." Rory nodded, absorbing his words and doing her best to implement them. Coordination wasn't her strong point.

After a few more practice throws, Rory lined up with the other children along the edge of the indoor basketball court and focused on the instructions Luke had given her. On the count of three, they all released their planes, Rory's flying well for a couple of meters before it collided with another plane and came crashing down to the floor, well behind many of the other aircraft.

Seeing the disappointment in her daughter's eyes, Lorelai stepped forward to reassure Rory it didn't matter. Before the words could leave her mouth, she heard Luke commend Rory for her good throw, brushing off the collision as bad luck. "You aced it Squirt. I think that would have been your best throw yet. Honestly, you let it go at the perfect time. Sure, it's a pity that it collided with that other plane, but there's not much we could have done to avoid that. You know, I think you've mastered the launch now. We should test it out later and see if we can crack your PB."

Rory grinned, pleased that Luke wasn't disappointed in her effort after going to so much effort to design the perfect plane.

"You're not mad?" she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Mad? Why would I be mad? You did a killer job. It took me months to throw a plane as well as you when I was a kid," Luke exaggerated, winking when Lorelai offered him a grateful smile.

 _This is what a father should be like_ , Lorelai thought, her mind drifting to her own parents. _Not focused on cotillions or extravagant dinners or upholding the perfect family image. Just being there. Supportive, encouraging, fun._

"Well maybe we'll have better luck on the next challenge," Rory supplied hopefully, joining in the cheers and applause for the winning student.

"Exactly. We'll give it our best shot," Luke confirmed with a smile.

Moving back toward the cluster of desks, the trio found a stack of paper, some scissors and tape had been placed onto each table.

Waving her arms to capture everyone's attention, Mrs. Foster called for quiet before launching into an explanation of their next activity. Each parent-student coupling would have two minutes of planning time, followed by a further 10 minutes to construct the tallest structure they could using only the materials provided. Once the towers were complete, a fan would be turned on a few meters away, with the structures needing to withstand the wind to be in the running to win. Unlike the plane activity, only the dads and students were allowed to participate, ensuring each group only had two sets of hands to make the competition fair. Rather than heading off to sit with some of the other moms, Lorelai continued to stand with Luke and Rory but simply watched on as they tackled the task at hand.

As soon as their planning time began, Rory turned to Luke with a puzzled frown. "Any ideas?" she asked, her brain whirring as she tried to think up a suitable solution.

"Where's Bert when you need him?" Lorelai grumbled.

Luke pondered for a moment before saying "Okay, I might have a few suggestions. Work with me here Rory. We can't keep the sheets of paper lying flat because they won't stretch very tall. And we can't tip the sheets up on their side in their current state because the fan will blow them over, right?"

"Right," Rory confirmed.

"So we need to change the paper in some way. Can you think of some things we could do to it that might change the height of it or make it more durable against the fan?" he prompted, wanting to make sure she had the opportunity to share her thoughts.

Rory thought hard, finally answering, "We could crumple it up. Or maybe we could fold it somehow?"

"Good girl, Squirt," he praised. "And if we managed to build it nice and tall, what would we need to do at the bottom to make sure it doesn't fall over or blow away when the fan is turned on."

"We'd need to tape it to the floor," Rory answered quickly, her confidence growing.

"That's right kiddo. And we'd probably need to make it nice and wide at the bottom, so even if the top sways when the fan's on it, it won't fall over. Does that make sense?"

Rory nodded, eager to get to work. They picked up a sheet of paper each, exploring different ways to fold it before Luke finally said, "I think I might be onto something, Squirt." Raising her head to inspect his handiwork, Rory saw Luke had rolled his sheet of paper into a tube shape. "What are your thoughts kiddo? Will it work?"

"Good one Luke!" Rory exclaimed, noticing how the paper had become much stronger when rolled up tightly.

"If we make lots of these tubes, we can stack them inside each other as we build upwards. We might just need to make a few towers and stick them together with some horizontal tubes in between and at the bottom so they're strong enough to stay standing when the fan's running."

Hearing the bell to indicate they could start building, Rory immediately reached for the tape, fastening each sheet of paper as Luke rolled them into shape. When they had a sizable pile of paper tubes surrounding them, they began arranging the first few in a square shape on the floor, sticking them to the wood for stability. They then set to work adding some vertical tubes in each corner, repeating the layers multiple times and watching the tower grow until it far surpassed Rory's height.

"Two minutes to go my builder extraordinaires," Lorelai reminded them, checking her watch. She couldn't help but laugh as she saw little Lane throw her arms up in exasperation across the room as her uncle accidentally knocked their tower to the floor.

Luke continued to stick the top layers of the structure together, Rory passing him the paper tubes and tape from below.

"I think I might need your magic touch for the very top, Rory," he stated, despite knowing he'd make much quicker work of the task at hand if he simply did it himself. Hoisting her up to sit on his shoulders, he allowed her to attach the final pieces, encouraging her as she fretted that they might not hold steady.

"You're doing a great job kiddo. I think they look just right," he affirmed, giving her the thumbs up from below.

When the bell sounded to indicate their 10 minutes was up, Luke ferried Rory over to the designated assembly area, the little girl giggling from his shoulders as she looked down at her mother.

As they reached the other parents and students, he lowered her back to the ground, assessing each of the towers around the room.

"You know what Squirt? Supposing our tower holds up in the wind, I think we might be in with a shot here," Luke whispered, eliciting a broad smile from Rory.

Taking to the microphone once again, Mrs. Foster commended the group on its efforts and explained how the judging would take place. She and the other Grade Five teacher, Ms Lowe, would shortlist the five tallest structures and set fans up beside each of them. If any survived the 30-second onslaught of wind, the creators of the tallest structure would be crowned the winners. If all of the towers collapsed they would repeat the process with the next five tallest structures in the room until one reigned supreme.

The teachers set about identifying the top five, wheeling a fan a few meters away from Rory and Luke's creation and prompting the Gilmores to high five one another in excitement. Rory and Luke's tower was the second tallest in the room.

On the count of three, the fans were switched on. Immediately, one of the structures blew wildly across the room, the creators having not thought to tape it down. Soon after, a second shorter structure buckled.

The remaining three towers all swayed dangerously, prompting Rory to shield her eyes with her hands and squeak, "I can't watch!"

After a few seconds, one of the support columns began to buckle on the tallest structure, the tower finally collapsing under the force. The crowd let out a collective "ohhhhh" as the paper hit the floor.

"Final two," Lorelai whispered to Rory, prompting the little girl to peek through her fingers.

"C'mon, stay upright," Luke murmured under his breath, willing their tower — now the tallest in the room but also the most wobbly — to hold strong. The force of the wind had it leaning heavily to one side, placing a lot of pressure on the support pillars at the back.

"Aaaannnd, time's up!" Mrs. Foster called.

The group immediately broke into a round of applause and cheers, turning their attention to Rory and Luke. It took a moment for their victory to sink in, but when it finally did, Rory barreled into Luke's legs, wrapping her hands tightly around his waist.

"We won!" she squealed delightedly, clinging tight to him. Luke hoisted her up in his arms and twirled her around.

"Good job kiddo!" Lorelai congratulated, placing a kiss in her daughter's hair, one hand resting on Rory's back and the other perched on Luke's waist to help support her weight as she leaned in to her daughter. Holding tight to Rory with one arm, Luke freed his other arm to wrap around Lorelai's waist, pulling her in tightly so she could cuddle Rory from behind. She buried her head in the curve of Rory's neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo. For a split second, Lorelai felt what it would be like for Rory to have a father that actually gave a damn; felt what it would be like to have a partner to celebrate the highs with and cling to during the lows; felt what it would be like to no longer be alone.

The applause dying down a few seconds later, Lorelai pulled back, her eyes connecting with Luke's as she offered him a congratulatory smile.

Returning to the microphone, Mrs. Foster congratulated all the finalists and presented both Rory and the winner of the paper plane challenge with a voucher each for Andrew's book store. The youngest Gilmore was beside herself with excitement.

With the afternoon's activities drawing to a close, Mrs. Foster called on the children to step forward one last time.

"As we mentioned earlier this afternoon, our Grade Five students have participated in a number of Father's Day activities in class this week," Mrs. Foster explained. "As part of this, they have each created a special keepsake for all of the dads in attendance today. Students, please step forward to the table on the left to collect your artwork."

Luke and Lorelai watched as Rory scampered off to the wooden table, locating the card she'd worked on and hurriedly returning to Luke's side. She held it out to him, a shy smile adorning her face.

Luke studied the hand drawn scene on the front, taking in the image of two adults and a child all holding hands, a CD player and various music notes also visible.

"It's us dancing in the lounge room," Rory clarified helpfully.

"I see that," Luke said softly, his lips snaking up into a smile. Flipping open the card, he was greeted with a Polaroid picture of Rory in her school uniform, which one of the teachers must have taken in the playground earlier in the week. Her hair was messy from the breeze and her eyes sparkled with laughter, much the same as her mother's often did.

His eyes raced over her neat handwriting, the sweet sentiments expressed in the card triggering a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Crouching down on his toes, he looked the little girl in the eye as he said, "Thank you Rory; that is hands down the best card I have ever received. Your drawing is great! C'mere Squirt," he added, opening his arms wide. His hug devoid of its usual awkwardness, he cuddled her to him tightly and whispered in her ear, "If I had a daughter, I'd want her to be just like you."

As they exited the school building, Rory babbling away, Lorelai turned at the sound of her name being called from behind. Luke's eyes narrowed as he saw Lincoln approaching, his son nowhere to be seen.

Pausing to allow the man to catch up, Lorelai waved Luke and Rory on, informing them she'd be with them in a moment. Luke watched from afar as the two adults conversed, an uneasy feeling rising in his stomach as Lincoln handed her a business card. Lorelai made no move to take it initially, but conceded a moment later, offering him a brief smile as they parted ways.

Rejoining Luke and Rory, she finished tucking the card into her purse but made no attempt to elaborate on the conversation.

"Everything okay?" Luke murmured, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Yep, all good," Lorelai replied with a casual wave of her hand, offering no further detail. Glancing down at Rory she said, "So Sweets, time to head home and celebrate your win."

"Do we have to go already? Can't we go to the book store to see what I can get with my voucher _pleeeassseee_?" the little girl begged.

"Sure, we've got nothing else to do, so might as well," Lorelai agreed.

As they made their way across the square, Rory turned to Luke and said, "You're coming in as well, right Luke?"

"Oh honey, Luke's probably got a million other things to do," Lorelai cautioned. "He's already taken the afternoon off to come to the school, so I don't know that he'll have time to wander around the book shop as well. We should probably say our goodbyes."

"Luke?" Rory implored, her blue eyes wide and hopeful.

"Reckon I can spare a little more time," he murmured, offering the younger Gilmore a quick nod of assent. "But only on one condition," he added seriously. "I get to take my dance partner and her mom out for ice cream afterwards."

"Oh, Luke, no. That's too much…" Lorelai protested.

"Non-negotiable I'm afraid," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I believe the job description was dad for the day right, Rory? Plus, I've never seen you knock back the chance to enter a sugar coma before," he challenged, raising his eyebrow teasingly at Lorelai. "Why start now?"

Rory buzzed with excitement, grabbing both adults by the hand and pulling them toward the book shop enthusiastically.

-o-

"I should try bribing her with ice cream more often," Lorelai snickered, lowering herself down to the grass beside Luke, her eyes fixed on her own triple choc monstrosity. "Normally it takes at least two hours and a closing sign to coax her out of the book shop, but we just set a new record. You're a demon of speed Danes."

Luke grunted appreciatively, his eyes settling on Rory as she pottered happily down by the lake a few meters away, ice cream cone in hand. After an hour of deliberating between Austen and Brontë, Tolstoy and Chekhov, the little girl had finally decided on _The Cherry Orchard_.

"You're gonna get covered in dirt and twigs lying like that," Luke admonished, watching as Lorelai flopped on her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Don't care," she shrugged cheerily, attacking her fast-melting treat with enthusiasm. Luke watched as her tongue darted out to capture a stray drip of ice cream that escaped down the side of her cone, drawing the sugary goodness into her mouth.

 _Stupid ice cream. Stupid cone._

"Would it have killed you to order a fruit cup?" he sighed.

"Where's the fun in that Burger Boy? You don't make friends with salad," she chided, savoring her next taste.

"Honestly, you're harder work than that entire gym full of fifth graders," he groaned.

"Hardly. Hey, you survived your old stomping ground," Lorelai added, thinking back on their earlier visit to the school.

"Uh huh. Hasn't changed much," he agreed.

"Bring back a lot of memories?" she asked. At his nod, Lorelai added, "Good or bad?"

"Both. Mostly good. Hit my first baseball there. Made some decent friends. Had my first kiss underneath the big red maple tree out back," he snorted.

"Ooooh smooth Danes! Who was she?"

"Destiny Rose. We were both in the second grade. I told her cooties be damned, I'd ride on the see-saw with her any day."

"That line still workin' for ya?" Lorelai teased, continuing to devour her ice cream.

"Like a charm," he winked.

"So where is she now? You run her out of town? I've never seen her around."

"With a name like Destiny Rose, probably working some Vegas strip club," he grunted, the corners of his lips turning up with a slight smile. "Who would know? Our torrid affair only lasted 24 hours before I moved on to Pamela Lopez."

Lorelai's jaw dropped in mock outrage. "Luke Danes, you womanizer, you!" she laughed.

"Yeah well, what can I say? Pamela was a fourth grader and I'd developed into a man of more mature tastes."

"So it seems. Poor Destiny must have been heartbroken."

"Like I always say, treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen Gilmore."

"So any other firsts I should be aware of at Stars Hollow Elementary?" Lorelai asked, cocking her brow suggestively. "You seemed to start awfully young on the kissing front."

"Get your mind out of the gutter," he scowled, rolling his eyes. "I was _seven_. First fight. How's that?"

"Oooh did you hustle some first graders for their play lunch? Fire off some trash talk on the jungle gym? Open up a can of whoop-ass on…?"

"You done?" Luke interrupted, fixing her with a stern glare. At her pout, he explained, "There may have been a _minor_ scuffle with Bootsy."

"Newsstand Bootsy?" she queried.

"The one and only. My sister came out of her dance lesson crying because of him so I was forced to take matters into my own hands."

"Tell me he didn't put Baby in the corner," she gasped, affronted.

"I believe he called her 'brace face'," Luke laughed. "Naturally, I defended her honor. Or attempted to. He was always a bigger kid so he pretty much sat on top of me and swung a couple of punches. Needless to say I came off worse for wear. Got the scar to prove it," he added, gesturing to a small mark above his eyebrow.

"Poor little Lucas!" Lorelai exclaimed dramatically, the use of his full name prompting a growl from Luke. She pushed up onto her knees from her place on the grass and crawled forward to inspect his now faded scar, her warm breath caressing his forehead.

Feeling the familiar tingle that always appeared in his stomach when she got too close, Luke forced himself to focus his gaze on a tree in the distance, resisting the urge to snake his arm around her waist and pull her lips to his.

As she leaned back on her heels a safe distance away, Lorelai let out a low whistle, adding, "Wow, he sure did a number on you. That would have hurt."

"Yeah well, he probably did me a favor in the long run. Turns out chicks dig scars," Luke said with a smirk. "How else do you think I moved on to Stacey Ramirez?"

"No!" Lorelai gasped, feigning outrage.

Seeing her indignant expression, he tried to keep a straight face before a deep rumble of laughter escaped his lips. "What can I say? I was a total stud."

"Geez. What went wrong between then and now?" Lorelai teased. Panic flooded her eyes the moment she saw the jibe register and watched Luke lunge to his feet. "Oh, crap!" She exclaimed, quickly finding her footing and tearing off toward the lake and away from his outstretched hands, which were poised and ready to tickle.

"Rory! Help!" She squealed, holding tight to her beloved ice cream as she pelted toward her daughter. Approaching the little girl from behind, she ducked behind her small frame, desperate to avoid Luke's advances.

"Using a child as a human shield…that's low even for you Gilmore," Luke tsked, taking a step closer. "What do you think Rory? Should I tickle her mercilessly? Or maybe dunk her in the lake?"

Rory giggled, turning on her mother with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Et tu, Brute?" Lorelai squeaked. "Remember who buys your birthday presents when you choose your allies kid!"

Intent on tickling Lorelai, Rory lunged forward with her tiny arms outstretched, completely forgetting about the half-eaten ice cream clasped in her left hand. Her lips formed a shocked 'o' when the cone came into contact with her mother's chin, splattering a thick layer of ice cream and the occasional sprinkle across her skin. They all stilled for a moment absorbing what had just happened. After a few seconds of astonished silence, Luke exploded with a roar of laughter, dropping his hands to his knees and gasping as he tried to draw breath.

"Couldn't have done it better myself, Squirt," he choked out between howls.

Both Gilmores dissolved into a fit of giggles, Lorelai taking the opportunity to stealthily rise from her place on the grass while Luke was doubled over with laughter. Her ice cream poised and ready for attack, she deftly moved across the grass between them, landing the chocolatey goodness squarely on his nose before grabbing Rory by the hand and running madly in the opposite direction.

"Who's laughing now Burger Boy?" she called over her shoulder, her eyes alight with laughter.

" _That's_ why an ice cream trumps a fruit cup any day!"

-o-

Luke sighed as he settled back against his pillow, his muscles aching after another long day. _A great day_ , he thought, a smile gracing his lips.

It had been a long time since he'd laughed that much; a long time since he'd taken time out of the diner for something other than a chore or his dark day; and the only time he could recall that the dull ache he'd carried in his stomach every day since his parents passed away had faded into oblivion, if only temporarily.

Somehow, the two blue-eyed Gilmore beauties had wormed their way into his heart and mind, completely disregarding the carefully constructed walls he'd put in place after Rachel last jumped aboard a plane to Tanzania with adventure in her sights.

As he thought back over the afternoon's events, he couldn't help but chuckle out loud at the memory of Lorelai's shocked face when Rory's ice cream had collided with her chin. There was something in the way her whole body hummed with energy, the way her smile illuminated her entire face and the way she could make him feel like a child all over again that stole his breath away. It paralyzed him, but also left him wanting more, craving her warmth and the sound of her easy laughter. Hell, he even wanted her when she was being a royal pain in the ass.

Unfortunately it appeared he wasn't the only one. Had Lincoln asked Lorelai on a date when he'd pulled her aside? Or was he simply discussing a school matter with her, parent to parent? Luke highly doubted it was the latter. _Damn him and his perfectly sculpted muscles._

Rolling onto his side, Luke's eyes landed on the card Rory had presented him with at the school, now carefully positioned on his bedside table.

 _I wish you were my real Dad Luke_. The carefully scrawled words burned into his brain, triggering a flutter of warmth in his chest. He'd never been great with kids. Never quite understood them or felt much of an affinity with them, but Rory was different. Perhaps it was the noticeably absent jam hands or the fact she wasn't quite as loud as most kids, but the pint-sized Gilmore had him hook, line and sinker. Luke suspected jam hands or none, she would always have him wrapped around her little finger. She was her mother's daughter after all.

Exhaling a contented sigh, he allowed the lure of sleep to overtake him, sending out a silent plea that for once in his life, the chips might actually fall in his favor.

-o-


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** Thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed or reviewed this story so far. I am so appreciative and welcome any feedback! A big shout out to elang4, PurryCat, junienmomo and BFD who have all been so thoughtful with their reviews of each chapter. You guys rock and your comments mean a lot!

-o-

"Sit anywhere," Luke barked at the sound of the bells ringing, too caught up in the receipts he was poring over to take note of who had entered the diner.

"Excuse me, could you move?" Lorelai asked, approaching Reverend Skinner who was enjoying his breakfast by the window.

"Not this again," Luke scowled, marching toward the two Gilmores. "I've told you a hundred times Lorelai; anywhere there aren't people. Sorry Reverend, ignore her," he added.

"Geez Burger Boy. Why so uptight? It was only a joke," Lorelai reasoned, her voice dancing with humor at his irritation.

"Surprisingly, my customers don't seem to find it all that funny," Luke growled.

"Yeah well, forgiving audience," Lorelai shrugged, glancing at the reverend. Luke merely shook his head and strode back behind the counter to resume his previous task.

Taking a seat at an empty table, Lorelai smirked at Rory before calling, "What's a girl gotta do to get a cup of coffee around here?"

"Quit annoying me and my customers for starters," Luke grumbled, adjusting the cap on his head as he made his way to their table and took hold of his order pad. "No coffee for you today. You've already exceeded your quota of pain-in-the-ass in the 60 seconds you've been here. More caffeine will only make matters worse."

"But Luke, I've only had one cup this morning," she whined.

"Plus…?"

"Nothing! Just the one, I swear."

"Rory?" he asked, doubt evident in his voice.

"Technically it was only one _pot_ ," Rory winced, unable to lie but not wanting to rat out her mother.

"You're cut off," he said sternly, ignoring the infuriated look Lorelai shot in Rory's direction. "Best we try to preserve whatever semblance of a stomach lining remains."

"But Luuukkkke…" she begged desperately.

"No buts Gilmore. You'll thank me when you live to see your thirtieth birthday."

"Hitler," she sulked.

"Addict," he accused.

After taking their food orders, he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two Gilmores to their own conversation.

"So what do you wanna do today kiddo?" Lorelai asked, aware they had a whole Sunday ahead of them free from work and school commitments.

"Don't we need to stop by the market?" Rory asked, ever pragmatic.

Lorelai wrinkled her nose in displeasure, but nodded nonetheless. They both hated grocery shopping; however, with the house fresh out of Pop-Tarts and their stocks of frozen curly fries dwindling, it was a necessary evil. The bare cupboards had been what led them to the diner in the first place.

"I was thinking we could fly my paper airplane afterwards seeing as we didn't end up doing it after school with Luke on Friday. Maybe stop by the library too," Rory suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," Lorelai agreed, grateful that her daughter was content with cost-free activities.

Smiling, Rory drew the paper airplane from her lap, resting it on the table in front of her and slowly pushing it about. When she pushed it in her mother's direction, Lorelai raised it from the table top, turning it around in her hands and inspecting it from all angles.

"I reckon we should test it out in here. See how well it flies without all the wind outside," she said mischievously.

"I don't know if that's such a great idea Mom," Rory fretted. "Luke might get cranky with us."

"That's half the fun," Lorelai returned with a smile. "Relax kid, what's the worst that can happen? He's already taken away my coffee supply. And besides, he's in the kitchen so he won't notice a thing."

Still apprehensive, Rory watched as her mother launched the Sparkle Racer across the diner, the aircraft crashing to the floor as it collided with the far wall. Morey sent them a wink from his and Babette's table in the corner, impressed with their creation. Rising from her chair, Lorelai scooped up the plane and threw a furtive glance toward the kitchen before tip-toeing her way behind the counter. Reaching for the coffee pot, her hand tensed on the handle when she heard Luke roar, "Don't even think about it Gilmore. And get out from behind my counter!"

"Coffee Nazi," she muttered, retreating to her seat with a scowl.

Hell-bent on pressing as many of Luke's buttons as possible in payback for the coffee ban, Lorelai once again lined up the paper plane, launching it at his retreating back after he delivered an order to a nearby table. The aircraft missed its target, instead sailing directly past Luke's ear, narrowly missing a table of customers and hurtling to the floor.

"That's it!" he bellowed, turning on his heel and settling his gaze on Lorelai. "Out," Luke barked sternly, pointing to the door.

"But I'm not breaking any rules," she protested, her eyes wide. "If you don't want people throwing paper planes in your diner, you should really put a sign up," she reasoned, feigning innocence.

"Why? You'd just ignore it and do what you want anyway. That's what you do with all my other signs," he said, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

"Onya Dollface!" Babbette cheered Lorelai from a few meters away, enjoying the show.

"Out. I'm serious," he added, an unyielding glare plastered across his face.

Remaining firmly in her seat, Lorelai said, "But Luke, we haven't eaten yet. And who's going to supervise Rory if I have to leave?"

"Rory's not the one who needs parental supervision," he growled. Marching back toward the kitchen, he stooped to collect the paper plane from the floor before saying, "Fine. I'm confiscating the plane. You've got one last chance. Sit still and behave or you'll find yourself outside on the pavement faster than I can say 'decaf'. You got that?"

"And Rory," he added gruffly, tucking the plane under his arm. "While she's sitting quietly, feel free to try and teach your mother some manners, yeah? I'll give you your plane back once every last drop of her orange juice is gone. And I mean every. Last. Drop," he added pointedly, his blue-gray eyes piercing Lorelai's as he carefully enunciated each syllable.

Rory merely groaned when not a moment after Luke returned to the kitchen, Lorelai's face lit up with a playful grin as she said, "Whattaya reckon the odds are of me being able to make a paper plane from a napkin kiddo?"

-o-

Rory couldn't concentrate.

Normally, when she opened the worn pages of _Pride and Prejudice_ , she found the timeless prose to be all-consuming; so much so that it often took her mother several attempts at calling her name before she returned to reality. Today, even the lure of Miss Bennet and Mr Darcy's budding romance couldn't hold her attention.

Staring at the text-laden pages without absorbing the words, Rory's mind once again drifted to the subject that had been occupying her thoughts regularly since their breakfast visit to the diner. At just 10 years of age, she realized she wasn't particularly well-versed when it came to matters of the heart, but she had a sneaking suspicion she wasn't too far off the mark with her latest theory. Hell, a blind monkey could have seen it from a mile off.

Closing the tattered pages of the library book she'd checked out earlier in the afternoon, her gaze focused on her mother who was busily unpacking the bags of food they'd picked up from Doose's Market.

"Mom," she called softly. "Can I ask you a question?"

Looking up briefly from the paper bag she had clasped in her hands, Lorelai peered over at her daughter curiously, saying, "Sure Sweets, fire away."

Rory took a deep breath before shyly asking, "Do you like Luke?"

Her hands freezing on a box of Pop-Tarts, Lorelai stiffened momentarily at her daughter's words before quickly turning her attention back to the task at hand.

"Of course I like Luke kiddo," she responded nonchalantly. "I'd like him a whole lot more if he'd finally agree to serve coffee in an IV, but that aside, yeah, he's a good friend."

Her brow furrowing in frustration, Rory refrained from replying immediately, instead taking a moment to mull over her mother's casual response.

"That's not…I mean umm…what I meant to say is…do you…you know... _like_ Luke? Like umm…more than friends," Rory mumbled awkwardly, her cheeks flushing red.

"What makes you think that?" Lorelai asked, her voice a slightly higher pitch than usual. Aside from occasionally musing about what life would be like if Christopher moved to Stars Hollow with white picket fence in tow, her daughter had never raised the subject of Lorelai's love life.

"Umm I guess…just…well…Alex Backus," Rory finished lamely.

"The boy from your class?" Lorelai asked, confused. "What, did he say something to you after the Father's Day activities at school?"

Rory fidgeted with the dog-eared corner of the library book, her eyes downcast as she struggled to find the right words.

"No. He just…remember when I told you about Lane's letter and how she thinks she's going to marry him because his ears don't stick out like Ronnie Winston's do?"

Lorelai held back her laughter, recalling how Rory had misspelled 'automobile' in her spelling test after being so shocked by the letter's innocent contents. Unsure of where her daughter was going with her ramble, Lorelai simply nodded, encouraging her to go on.

"And remember how he used to pull Lane's hair when he sat behind her? And sometimes he'd run off with her kimchi at lunch time before finally giving it back?"

Again, Lorelai nodded, quipping, "I probably would have brought it back too when I saw the tofu."

Rory gave a slight smile before continuing on seriously.

"And do you remember you said the reason he probably did those things was because he liked her and thought teasing her was a good way to get her attention?"

Finally connecting the dots, Lorelai said softly, "I remember."

"I just…well you and Luke….you tease each other a _lot_ ," she finished, her eyes wide to emphasize her point. "This morning with the paper plane and the other day with the ice cream, and all the times you ask for coffee and he won't give it to you. I just thought…"

"It's different," Lorelai stated matter-of-factly, cutting her daughter off. "It's very perceptive of you to make that connection Sweets, but adults are different to kids. When you're a grown-up, you don't tend to resort to hair pulling to get your point across." _Much_ , she added silently.

"You're right that Luke and I do tease a lot but it's just because we like to joke around. We're friends, that's all," Lorelai stated firmly, though Rory couldn't help but notice her mother's semi-flustered state as she set about gathering the empty paper bags at her feet.

"Mom?" Rory asked quietly, finally breaking the rare silence that hung between them.

"Yeah kid?"

"If you ever wanted to umm…be more than friends with Luke…I, uh…I think that you should. You know…if it would make you happy." Rory's cheeks flamed pink as the words tumbled from her mouth awkwardly.

Lorelai sighed, somewhat taken aback by Rory's admission.

"Thanks Sweets, but believe me when I say that's not something you need to dwell on. Luke and I are just friends. Besides, even if I did like him, I'm not sure I could date him; his ears are nowhere near as well-proportioned as Alex Backus'," she added with a wink.

-o-

"Arms up," Lorelai instructed, running the tape measure from beneath Rory's arm down to the hem of her dress.

Balancing a few pins between her lips, she slowly withdrew them one-by-one, pinning the hem just beneath her daughter's knee height.

"You are going to look just like a princess when I'm done with this," she enthused, leaning back on her heels to assess her handiwork.

"I want to look like you Mom," Rory said earnestly.

"Well you're in luck sweet cheeks, 'cos you already do," Lorelai laughed, tousling her daughter's hair affectionately. "Where do you think that dark hair, creamy white skin and those big blue eyes came from?"

Rory smiled, pleased at her mother's assessment.

"Remember this conversation when you hit your teens and can't get a tan to save your life," Lorelai muttered.

She carefully unzipped the dress, helping her daughter to step out of it without grazing against any of the pins.

"Are you getting a new dress for our visit to Grandma's and Grandpa's too?" Rory asked, throwing her school uniform back on. With Richard and Emily planning to tour Europe in December, the elder Gilmores had insisted Lorelai and Rory join them for Christmas in July so they did not miss their annual Christmas visit. Lorelai wouldn't have bothered to make contact with them at all had she not felt guilty about denying Rory the opportunity to have some form of relationship with her grandparents, at least until she was old enough to make up her own mind about them. While it had taken Lorelai until Rory was eight to extend the olive branch, she now begrudgingly attended two dinners per year for her daughter's sake, each reunion inevitably leaving her feeling battered and miserable.

"No honey, I've got my black one in the closet," she explained, referring to the sole somewhat formal dress she owned.

"How come I'm getting a new one but you're not?" Rory asked inquisitively.

"Because you, my gorgeous girl, have grown so tall in the last few months that your old dress won't fit. I'm all done with my growth spurts so I can make do with the one I've got."

Stepping back to cast an eye over her daughter, she added, "You keep growing the way you have been and you'll be as tall as me in no time. I think I might need to start putting some of those precious books of yours on your head; weigh you down a bit and make sure you stay my little girl for as long as possible," she teased.

"I thought you said I'd still be your baby girl even when I'm 103," Rory giggled.

"That's right," Lorelai agreed, tapping Rory on the nose. "No matter how much you grow, you'll always be my baby."

"So why don't you get a new dress for Grandma and Grandpa's?" Rory persisted, reverting back to their initial conversation. "I mean, I know you said you have one already, but don't you want something new so you don't have to wear the same thing as the last time we saw them?"

 _Nothing gets past this kid._ Lorelai grimaced, realizing Rory was going to press the issue.

"Well honey, those kinds of dresses are expensive and if mine still fits, I'd prefer to put that money toward something like a bookshelf for your room or a new reading lamp. Something that you'd get some good use out of. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Besides," Lorelai added before her daughter could respond. "We only see your grandparents twice a year for Christmas and Thanksgiving so it's not like I need a lot of fancy things. I don't have anywhere else to wear them."

"But what if Grandma notices and gets mad at you?"

Lorelai sighed. She hated that Rory picked up on the tension between her and her hyper-critical mother.

"With any luck, Grandma won't even remember I wore it before. I'll dress it up with a necklace Grandma won't have seen so it'll look a bit different. Plus, it won't be as cold this time of year, so I won't wear the stockings underneath like last time. It's not a big deal sweetie, honestly."

Rory was quiet for a moment, her eyes downcast before she tipped her head up toward her mother and said softly, "I don't like it when Grandma is mean to you. I don't want the bookshelf or the reading lamp if it means you're going to get into trouble. You should spend the money on a new dress or at least on some new material to make one like mine to save some money. Don't worry about the stuff for my room."

Lorelai felt her heart break a little at Rory's words.

"Oh, sweetie," she cooed, crouching down to Rory's eye height. "You know, your kind heart is one of the million reasons why I love you," she said, placing her palm over Rory's chest and pausing for a moment to feel the steady beat.

"It's very sweet of you to think of someone else's needs ahead of yours, but in this case, that's my job as the mom kiddo. I don't want you worrying about money or my relationship with your grandparents. Sure, we don't always see eye-to-eye, but that will never change the fact that we all love you very much. Your job as the kid is just to have fun and focus on school. The last thing I want is for you to grow up too quickly sweet pea. You've gotta trust me on this one."

"But Mom…" Rory pressed.

"Babe, what have I always taught you? What are the only three things we need to get by?" When Rory didn't respond immediately, Lorelai tickled her under the chin. "C'mon miss star student, I know you know the answer."

"A roof over our heads, each other and the entire series of _I Love Lucy_ on video," Rory recited in a soft tone.

"Precisely. So please stop worrying, okay? We've got all three boxes ticked. You forget that the thing that makes me happiest is seeing you happy. I'd get much more enjoyment from watching you pore over your favorite books than I would from buying a dress that I'll only wear once in a blue moon."

"Okay," Rory whispered.

Placing her hands on her daughter's shoulders, Lorelai leaned forward to peck a tender kiss to Rory's forehead. "Come here, crazy girl. I need to get in as many cuddles as possible before you start to get so grown up you think hugging your Mom is embarrassing."

-o-

Her first instinct was to run; to grab Rory's hand and get as far away from this place as she could.

The Gilmore mansion loomed ominously in front of her, its garish sandstone bricks and opulent finishes bearing down on Lorelai, stealing the breath from her chest.

"Mom?" Rory ventured, staring up at Lorelai's immobile frame and watching as her nails dug tightly into the carefully wrapped gifts in her arms.

Shaken from her thoughts, Lorelai forced a smile and stood up to her full height, steeling herself for the sparring match that undoubtedly lay ahead.

"Go ahead and ring the bell babe," she conceded, stepping toward the front door. "And remember the game plan; if they have the apple tarts, be sure to stuff your pockets before we leave."

"But I don't have any pockets," Rory fretted, a frown adorning her face.

"Remind me of that design flaw next time I make you a dress," Lorelai grumbled as the door swung open, revealing her mother on the other side.

"Honestly Richard, where has that incompetent maid gotten to?" Emily asked, trailing off as she spotted her daughter and granddaughter perched on the doorstep.

"Merry Christmas Grandma!" Rory greeted.

"Merry Christmas to you too Rory. Hello Lorelai," Emily added curtly, gesturing for them to enter.

"Hi Mom, merry Christmas in July," Lorelai replied, wondering how long it would take before the first blow struck. _And Lorelai Gilmore steps into the boxing ring._

Looking her daughter up and down, Emily immediately said, "Isn't that the same dress you wore last time you were here Lorelai?"

 _Pow_.

"Oh, is it?" Lorelai said, feigning ignorance as she smoothed the fitted dress over her hips. "My memory's a little sketchy. I just pulled one from the closet without giving it too much thought."

"Evidently," Emily said harshly, her eyebrow cocked. Turning to her granddaughter as she led them toward the living room she added, " _Your_ dress is just darling Rory. Where did you get it?"

"Mom made it for me," Rory answered proudly, offering Lorelai a broad smile.

"Made it?" Emily retorted sharply.

 _Pow, pow._

"Honestly Lorelai, that's a maid's job. Homemade clothes are the sort of things peasants' children wear. You waste your time on silly things like that and it will give people the impression you can't afford nice things."

 _I can't_ , Lorelai thought, but she kept her mouth closed, refusing to take the bait so early in the evening.

"I like it better than the ones at the store Grandma," Rory reasoned. "Mom helped me choose the style and let me pick out the fabric so it was just what I wanted and it fits me perfectly. Plus, she offered to buy me a new one but I asked for this instead," Rory lied, desperate to halt her Grandmother's attack on her mother.

"Well, you chose a very nice fabric Rory," Emily replied, sure to phrase her response so as not to compliment her daughter's handiwork.

"Grandpa!" Rory exclaimed, sighting Richard on the lounge. After exchanging greetings and assisting Lorelai to deposit the gifts beneath the Christmas tree, Richard asked, "So, can I get you two ladies some drinks?"

"Gin martini for me please Dad," Lorelai said. "Soda for you Sweets?" she asked, receiving a nod of confirmation from her daughter.

No sooner had they accepted their drinks and taken a seat stiffly on the lounge than the doorbell rang again. Not bothering to wait for the missing maid, Emily rushed to the foyer, returning a moment later with Christopher at her heels.

 _Pow, pow, pow, pow, pow. Round one to the reigning champion, Emily Gilmore._

"Christopher?" Lorelai asked, perplexed. "I thought you were in Chicago?"

"What, not happy to see me Lor?" He asked jokingly, turning his attention to Rory and adding, "Got a hug for your old man kiddo?"

Rory slowly moved away from her mother's side, offering him a somewhat rigid hug without her usual enthusiasm. It was the first time Lorelai had ever seen her daughter hesitate to throw herself in Christopher's arms.

"Umm…how come you're in Connecticut?" Rory asked. "Not that it's not good to see you…I just…Grandma didn't mention you were coming."

"Well, I didn't have any plans this weekend and your Grandma and I thought it might be nice to surprise you and your mom," Christopher explained.

 _More like ambush you_ , Lorelai thought bitterly.

"It's nice to see you Chris," Lorelai acknowledged with a nod.

"Christopher, my boy," Richard boomed happily. "How wonderful to see you in our neck of the woods. Can I interest you in a drink son?"

"Scotch, neat would be great thanks Richard," Christopher replied, shaking the older man's hand before settling on the lounge opposite Lorelai and Rory.

Looking particularly pleased with herself, Emily perched on one of the single armchairs firing question after question at Christopher. Despite her mother's meddling, Lorelai found herself thankful that the attention was temporarily drawn away from her.

After 20 minutes of non-stop questioning, Emily turned to the group and said, "So, shall we start the gift opening before dinner is served? I simply cannot wait to see Rory's reaction when she unwraps hers."

Nodding in agreement, Richard rose from his chair and collected the carefully wrapped parcels from beneath the Christmas tree.

"I'm so sorry we don't have something for you Chris," Lorelai apologized. "If I had have known you were coming we would have brought a gift along."

"Oh…no problem. I ah…actually kind of forgot to pick up gifts myself. Sorry about that kiddo," he added, addressing Rory. "I'll make your birthday present an extra big one this year, I promise."

Ever the perfect hostess, Emily handed Christopher a smartly wrapped gift from her and her husband, ensuring he was not left out of the gift opening. They took it in turns to unwrap their gifts, Rory heeding the instructions Lorelai had given her in the car ride over to first peruse the card and then carefully unstick the paper, rather than tearing it off enthusiastically as they did at home.

Watching as Rory stared down at the foreign gold rectangle in front of her, Lorelai immediately sensed her daughter's confusion. Rory wasn't accustomed to receiving the lavish gifts her grandparents had begun to bestow on her since the reconciliation, so the shiny, flat item in her palm was more a source of bewilderment than delight.

Leaning forward as if to get a better look at the gift, Lorelai looped her arm around Rory's shoulders and imperceptibly whispered the word 'bookmark' in her ear, adding out loud, "Wow, Sweets, that is lovely."

"Thank you Grandma and Grandpa," the youngest Gilmore gushed politely, grateful for her mother's explanation. "It's beautiful. I can't wait to go home and use it in the novel I'm reading."

Delighted by Rory's apparent enthusiasm, Emily exclaimed, "Lovely! I'm so glad you like it Rory. It's 24-karat gold, and the finest quality you will ever see. Nothing but the best for our granddaughter."

Lorelai and Rory watched on as the elder Gilmores opened their gifts; a silk scarf for Emily and an antique humidor for Richard from Mrs Kim's store that had set Lorelai back almost a week in house repayments.

Finally, Lorelai was granted permission to take her turn, unwrapping a selection of expensive-looking hair products.

Before she could so much as utter a word of thanks, Emily cut in harshly with, "They're for those dreadful curls of yours. God knows your hairdresser doesn't seem to be able to control them, so I thought these might help in making you actually look presentable from time to time."

"Thanks Mom, Dad," Lorelai choked out, feeling the harsh sting of criticism strike her once again.

Grateful for the interruption, she watched on as the Gilmore's elusive maid, Marietta, appeared in the lounge advising Emily that dinner would be served shortly. Placing their gifts aside, the party rose and took their seats at the table, Emily ringing the bell to instruct the wait staff to bring the turkey.

After ceremonially carving the first piece, Richard allowed the turkey to be taken back into the kitchen for serving while everyone started on their salads.

"So tell me Christopher, are you seeing someone at the moment?" Emily asked nosily.

"I can't say that I am Emily. I'm actually working on a new career venture at the moment, so that seems to be taking up most of my time."

"That's too bad," Emily replied, shooting Lorelai a suggestive look when Christopher was facing the other direction.

"Still in the IT industry?" Richard inquired.

"Yes, that's right. I'm working for a start-up company. We're looking at developing a new online retail platform that basically allows people in the same geographic area to share a range of resources. I'm mainly involved behind-the-scenes with the software build, but it's looking really promising at this stage," Christopher explained.

"That sounds very impressive," Emily commended him. "Wouldn't you agree it's impressive, Lorelai?" the woman added pointedly.

"Yes, absolutely Chris. It sounds like you're onto a good thing," Lorelai affirmed with a smile.

"Yeah, you actually might know one of the guys I'm working alongside. Do you remember Marcus O'Neil from high school days? He went to that all boys' school around the corner from ours. I used to kick his butt in lacrosse from time to time," he added with a smirk.

"You mean mono-brow Marcus?" Lorelai recalled, finally placing his face in her mind.

"Yeah, that's him," Christopher laughed. "I forgot everyone used to call him that. I'm pleased to confirm he's since heard of a little wax and now has two eyebrows rather than one."

"Oh, he was such a lovely, polite boy," Emily mused. "Rather short and not the sharpest tool in the shed, mind you. The mono-brow was _very_ unfortunate, but I always thought if he could just take care of that, he'd make a very nice suitor. Not for Lorelai, of course. She was always such a gangly looking teen; all legs, and absolutely no coordination. It was like watching an oversized Bambi stumble about the place," Emily added snidely.

" _Tall_ Mom. I think _tall_ is the descriptor you're looking for."

"I was always of the opinion that he and Kitty Sanders' daughter Constance would have made such a wonderful couple. Such good breeding," Emily continued, not so much as blinking at Lorelai's interjection.

"Ah, Mom…I'm pretty sure Constance bats for the other team," Lorelai replied, eliciting a snort from Christopher.

"Whatever do you mean, Lorelai?" Emily demanded, confused by her daughter's words.

"I'm saying she's a big fan of ladies' night, pitches to a different mound, dodges the todger, flies the rainbow flag…" Lorelai trailed off leadingly.

"She's a lesbian, Mom," she clarified, noting Emily's still mystified expression.

"Oh, I hardly see why that's relevant Lorelai," Emily admonished.

"Well Constance probably would have disagreed with you on that point if you'd tried to set her up with Marcus O'Neil," Lorelai grumbled.

Christopher laughed, quickly focusing his eyes on his plate when Emily shot him a reproachful glare.

They made it through the main course, Emily taking every opportunity possible to fire thinly veiled insults at Lorelai, much to Rory's dismay. Rory could see the light slowly disappearing from her mother's eyes as the evening continued, her signature sarcastic remarks becoming fewer and further between as Emily bombarded her with wave after wave of criticism.

As the wait staff removed their dishes in preparation for dessert, Christopher turned his attention to Rory, raising the subject of his cancelled visit a few weeks prior.

"So how did your Father's Day thing at school turn out kiddo? Did you and your mom have plenty of fun?"

"We had the best day," Rory said, a smile lighting her face as she spoke.

"Luke did the Daddy Daughter Dance with me, and he and Mom both stayed for the other activities. We came first in the paper tower competition and I won a book because Luke is really good at building things. Then he took Mom and I out for ice cream and I got chocolate syrup _and_ colored sprinkles!" she exclaimed, her eyes dancing with excitement.

Lorelai felt the crippling angst take hold the second the words left Rory's mouth, awaiting the unavoidable blow from her disapproving mother.

 _Three, two one…blast off._

"And how long have you been seeing this Luke, Lorelai?" Emily asked sharply, sitting up squarely in her seat and temporarily downing her cutlery so Lorelai felt the full force of her gaze. The disdain with which she pronounced Luke's name did not go unnoticed.

"I'm not seeing him Mom," Lorelai stated evenly. "I'm not seeing anyone at the moment."

"That's not the impression I just got from Rory," Emily persisted, her tone pleasant but laced with accusation. Rory sunk back in her seat, silently berating herself for handing her grandmother fresh ammunition.

"Well it's the truth Mom. He's just a guy I met in town," she said vaguely, hoping to dismiss the conversation.

" _Just a guy_? Pray tell, what would induce you to leave your 10-year-old daughter in the care of _just a guy_?"

"Well for starters, she wasn't in his care; I was there with her, as was her teacher. And secondly, it's not like he's just some random guy I picked up at Home Depot. He's been serving us coffee at the local diner for forever."

"He works at a diner?" Emily sneered, the words dripping with distaste.

"He _owns_ a diner Mom," Lorelai countered. "Not that it's any of your business."

"I happen to believe matters involving the safety of my grandchild are my business Lorelai," she spat back angrily. "For all you know, this diner man could be a criminal, a drug lord, a child molester for God's sake. Did you ever think about that? Good God Lorelai, you are just so _careless_ when it comes to Rory."

Lorelai felt the coil that had been furled so tightly in the depths of her gut all evening finally spring free.

Feeling the hot spurt of anger bubble up inside her, she slammed her napkin down on the table and said, "You're right, I am careless with Rory. I drop her off at the diner every afternoon after school so Luke can whip her up a roadkill burger with a side of hash cookies. Then with the extra money he makes from his drug deals and child slavery ring, they hit the casinos and booze up at the roulette table. No need to worry though; they're always back by the time I finish work so when I arrive to pick her up, we can all pop out into the back alley together and snort a couple of lines. Is that what you want to hear?" Lorelai demanded angrily. "That I neglect my daughter? That her safety means nothing to me?"

"Honestly Lorelai, there's no need to raise your voice," Emily rebuked, though her own had increased in volume considerably. "What am I supposed to think? Rory says a strange man escorts her to a Father's Day dance and all you can tell me is that he's _just a guy_ that you see at a diner once in a while? You should be thinking about Rory's needs for once and asking Christopher to fly out for these things, not summoning some greasy diner man."

Gritting her teeth, Lorelai responded carefully. "Christopher couldn't make the dance. We asked. And forgive me for trying to make Rory happy, but I'm not about to deny my daughter the opportunity to participate in her school's activities just because her father couldn't be there."

Conscious of her daughter watching the spat play out, Lorelai forced herself to speak slowly and calmly as she continued on.

"Mom, this is not the time or the place for this conversation. Luke is our friend and he has been nothing short of amazing for offering to help out when Christopher was unable to make the school's celebrations. You can insult my lifestyle, my physical appearance, my choice of dress, but you will _not_ accuse me of being careless when it comes to my daughter or criticize the one person that would move heaven and earth to make sure Rory and I are okay. That's where I draw the line."

Softening her tone, Lorelai glanced at her daughter and said, "Sweetie, I think it's time for us to go. Why don't you go ahead and say your goodbyes?"

"But we haven't had dessert yet," Emily sputtered. "You don't just get up and leave before dessert is served Lorelai."

"Thank you for the meal and the gifts Mom. Your cook really outdid herself. Dad, Christopher: merry Christmas. I'm sorry it had to end this way," she said, rising from the table and gesturing for Rory to follow.

"Lorelai, you get back here right now," Emily demanded shrilly. "Rory, you don't have to go," she added futilely, following them into the foyer. "Your mother's being irrational. If you'd like to stay we'll set up Lorelai's old room for you."

Tears pooled in Rory's blue eyes and she clung to Lorelai's hand staunchly, refusing to relinquish her vice grip. "I want to go with Mom," she whispered, a soft sob escaping from her throat.

Emily looked helplessly between her daughter and granddaughter, recognizing all-too-well the defiance and unwavering resolve in Lorelai's eyes. It was the same look she'd given her for months prior to her running away with Rory to start a new life in Stars Hollow; the same look that plagued Emily's dreams and made her sick to her stomach with regret.

"Lorelai, I…"

"I think we've both said enough Mom. Rory's upset. Let's just call off the dogs before we make things any worse," Lorelai responded with a sigh. "Goodnight".

Pulling her daughter to her side protectively, she exited the front door, bound for the safety of her Jeep and Stars Hollow.

-o-

Marching across her parents' driveway, Lorelai immediately felt the tightness in her chest; the anger mixed with paralyzing weakness. She'd been Gilmored.

About halfway home, she started to feel better. Then, as always, the unrepentant wave of eye-popping nausea took hold, the rich food mixing with the bitter memories to send her spiraling back downhill.

As Lorelai navigated the car slowly through the Stars Hollow town limits, Rory — who'd been silent for most of the ride home aside from assuring Lorelai she was okay — quietly asked, "Mom, could we call in at Luke's for a to-go cup of cocoa?"

"Sure honey, whatever you like" she replied, extending her hand across the seat to give Rory's knee a reassuring squeeze.

As they pulled to a stop in front of the diner, Rory couldn't help but notice the way her mother's shoulders sagged as she leant forward over the steering wheel. "I'll go in," Rory said, resting a soft hand against Lorelai's arm and plucking a few dollar bills from the center console.

Luke was just about to empty the remains of the coffee down the sink when he heard a small voice call, "Luke, stop!"

"You sound just like your mother," he growled, stilling his movements before the hot liquid seeped from the jug and turning to face the youngest Gilmore.

"Can I have a large cup to go please? And a small hot cocoa? You're not closed are you?" she fretted, anxious to supply her mother with a much-needed pick-me-up.

"For everyone else, I'm closed. For you, I'm open. But your mother's getting decaf at this hour," he warned, glancing at the clock. "There's no way she'll sleep if she has a caffeine hit now."

"Actually, she could really do with the caffeine this one time Luke. Please?" she added softly, preparing to pout if he didn't budge immediately.

"No," he responded sternly. But despite his gruffly spoken words, she watched him begin to pour the caffeinated liquid into a large cup.

"She okay?" Luke grunted, noticing the absence of Lorelai's incessant chatter as she waited in the car. "You had an early Christmas at your grandparents' place right?"

"Yeah, happy Christmas in July by the way," she added with a small smile, crawling up onto one of the stools at the counter and watching as he began to prepare her cocoa. "It ended kinda badly. Grandma was being mean to Mom all night and they got into a fight, so we left."

"Aw, geez," he sighed. "Are you alright?"

"Yep," she smiled. "Mom isn't so good though. Kinda hit rock bottom around Route 44, but I'm sure she'll feel much better once she's got some coffee in her and we switch on _Casablanca_. Don't worry, I've got her covered," she said proudly.

"I'm sure you do. You're a good kid Squirt," he winked.

They sat in silence for a moment, waiting for the cocoa to heat before Rory said, "Hey Luke?"

"Yeah Squirt?"

"I'm really glad that we've got you," she said, avoiding making eye contact. "I think mom would be lonely without you around and I really like spending time with you."

"Right back at ya," Luke murmured, giving her tiny hand a gentle squeeze across the counter.

"Extra marshmallows. On the house," he grunted, sliding the to-go cup across the counter to her.

"Thanks Luke!" she beamed, careful not to spill the drinks as she hopped down from the counter and headed for the door.

"Hey Squirt?"

"Yeah?"

"Look after her, okay? And call if there's anything I can do."

-o-


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** Here is chapter five! As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts :) Love it? Hate it? Want to kick Christopher? Want to kick me for not getting our faves together quick enough? Drop me a line!

-o-

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._

Lorelai blinked groggily, fighting hard against her heavy eyelids as she struggled to determine where she was and why there was an incessant banging noise reverberating around her head.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

Her long lashes fluttering open, she raised her head from the pillow, glancing around her room in an unsuccessful attempt to identify the source of the racket. The numbers on her alarm clock glowed red and luminous, informing Lorelai it was 8.39am; too early to be awake on a Saturday.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._

With a weary groan, Lorelai forced herself to rise from her warm cocoon, inwardly cursing the unknown person, animal or object that that had dared to rouse her from her weekend sleep-in.

Following the noise, she wound her way down the stairs and out onto the front porch where she came face-to-face with a hot and sweaty Luke, a tool belt wrapped around his waist.

"S'appening?" she mumbled sleepily, covering her mouth as a yawn escaped.

"I'm fixing your porch rail," Luke shrugged, gesturing at the timber railing, hammer in hand. "Morning, by the way," he added, turning his attention back to the task at hand.

"Sleeping," Lorelai said sternly, unable to form full sentences before her morning caffeine hit. "Early."

"4am is early," Luke grunted. "You can't honestly tell me you were still sleeping at this hour."

"Bed. Good. Luke. Evil," Lorelai choked out.

Shaking his head at her disoriented state, Luke couldn't help but smile slightly as he took in the picture of her in her Hello Kitty summer pajamas, her hair messy from sleep. "All this time I've known you and it's taken until now for me to realize that the only way to stop you from talking a mile a minute is to strike up a conversation when you're half asleep. I should do that more often."

Scowling, Lorelai's demeanor soon changed as he thrust a to-go cup of coffee and a _Luke's_ bag in her direction. "Cherry," he grunted, referring to the Danishes that were ensconced in the paper bag for her and Rory.

"Angel!" Lorelai beamed, inhaling the aroma of the warm beverage before drawing it to her lips with a contented sigh and immediately feeling her energy levels rise. "So did I know my porch rail needed fixing?" she queried, cocking her brow in confusion.

"I noticed it was loose when I was here last," he explained, hammering another nail into place. "Thought I'd save you the hassle of hiring a tradesperson."

"Oh, thanks Luke," she murmured, tucking her feet beneath her as she took a seat on the porch swing. Lorelai watched as he drew another nail from his toolbox, carefully lining it up in the desired position.

"Sorry to wake you. I just didn't want to leave it too late in the day to get started when the temperature's only going to climb higher."

Lorelai brandished her hand in the air, waving off his apology. She watched as his muscles flexed beneath the white t-shirt he wore, his flannel long discarded in the heat.

"Rory about?" he asked, making idle conversation.

"Still asleep," she clarified. "There could be a freight train passing through and it wouldn't have a hope of waking her when she's out cold."

"Tiring night for you both, huh? Rory mentioned dinner at your parents' didn't go so well."

"Just for something new and different," Lorelai grimaced. "We went, we ate, we argued, we left. Just a regular Gilmore family dinner really. I don't know why I ever bothered trying to bridge the gap with them after all those years apart."

"For Rory," he reminded her softly, prompting an almost imperceptible nod from Lorelai.

"So what was the fight about this time? They hell-bent on enrolling her in some etiquette-for-10-year-olds course?"

 _You_ , Lorelai thought. _The fight was about you._

"Oh everything and nothing," she said offhandedly. "You know what it's like when my mother and I are in a room together. It doesn't take much for World War III to ignite. I'd deigned to wear a dress I'd already worn to Christmas dinner last year so naturally I was out of the running for daughter-of-the-year the second I walked through the door. The real high points were when Cruella sprung a visit from Christopher on us and accused me of being careless with Rory."

"She didn't," Luke spluttered.

"She did," Lorelai confirmed, tucking into the Danish. "She's right though. I've really gotta kick the habit of hiring axe murderers to babysit."

Luke merely grunted, testing his weight against the section of porch rail he'd just fixed in position.

Watching intently, Lorelai gasped when she caught sight of the dark ink tattooed on his right arm.

"You've got a tattoo!" she yelped, shocked.

"You're a regular Sherlock," Luke mumbled, not bothering to lift his eyes to hers as he continued with his work.

"How did I not know this?" she pressed. "Is it new?"

"Had it for a couple of years," Luke shrugged. "The flannel normally covers it."

Narrowing her eyes, Lorelai tried to make out the cluster of images arranged in a circular pattern as she licked sweet cherry flavoring from her fingers. "What do all the shapes mean?" she asked curiously, silently willing him to stop moving his arm so she could zero in on the tattoo more closely.

"Umm…you really wanna know?" he asked slowly. At her eager nod, he paused before explaining, "The arrows are a reminder to always move forward with confidence. The triangles…er…symbolize different things depending on the direction they're pointing. Down is feminine and up is masculine so there are a few of them for my mom and dad. The circle has no start and finish, so it umm…signifies a sense of completeness, and the rectangle pretty much represents me in the middle of everything. A Tibetan monk actually drew the whole thing up for me," he explained easily.

"Wow, really?" she breathed, fascinated by the symbolism.

"Nope," he scoffed truthfully. "Got it after a drunken night at KCs. Haven't got a clue what it means. I'm just lucky I didn't walk out with Barbie tattooed on my ass."

"You rat!" Lorelai laughed, throwing a tiny chunk of Danish at him from her place on the swing and failing miserably in her attempt to feign outrage. "Who knew Luke Danes was such a wild child once upon a time?"

Luke couldn't stop the deep rumble of laughter that bubbled up from his stomach. "So what about you? Any tattoos or piercings I don't know about?"

"None that you can see Burger Boy," she responded teasingly, leaving Luke's imagination to run wild.

At the sound of a vehicle approaching, both Lorelai and Luke jerked their heads toward the front lawn, Lorelai's brow furrowed in confusion.

"You expecting someone?" Luke asked, not recognizing the car that came to a stop in front of them.

Lorelai shook her head, her eyes fixed intently on the car as she tried to determine who was at the wheel. "Christopher," she breathed as the door opened and his lean frame rose from the driver's seat.

Stiffening slightly, Luke busied himself with the now repaired railing until Christopher mounted the porch steps.

"Morning Lor," the man greeted, throwing a broad smile in Lorelai's direction before turning his attention to Luke and pointedly looking him up and down. "I don't believe we've met," he added sharply.

"Oh, sorry," Lorelai said, rising from the swing as the initial shock of Christopher's appearance wore off. "Chris, this is Luke Danes. Luke, this is Christopher, Rory's dad."

"Nice to meet you," Luke murmured politely, extending his hand to shake.

Christopher merely looked at his outstretched hand with distaste for a few seconds before finally returning the handshake.

"It's awfully early to have a tradesperson working on a Saturday," he said coolly, his eyes trained on Luke as he sized him up.

"Ah…yeah…just trying to get in before the heat really takes hold," Luke explained, rising to his full height.

"So Chris, what brings you to Stars Hollow?" Lorelai interjected.

"Just thought I'd stop by to take my two favorite girls out for a meal before I head back to Chicago," he explained. "You got time to show me around town?"

"Uh…yeah, sure. I'm sure Rory would like that," she agreed awkwardly.

Packing up his tools, Luke gathered his flannel and threw it over his shoulder before turning to Lorelai and saying, "I'll get out of your hair. That railing shouldn't give you any trouble but if you have any problems, just give me a shout and I'll drop by."

"Oh, thanks Luke. You don't wanna stop for a cold drink before you go?"

"Nah, I'm fine thanks," he answered uncomfortably. "Probably best that I get back to the diner sooner rather than later."

Nodding her understanding, she thanked him once again for the repairs and the breakfast goodies and watched as he made his way to his truck and backed out of the drive.

"So what was all that about?" Christopher questioned, his head jerking in the direction of Luke's retreating vehicle.

"What was what, Chris?" Lorelai queried, taking another sip of coffee.

"That. Him. _Luke_ ," Christopher elaborated, waving one hand in the air.

"Like he said, he stopped by this morning to fix our porch railing."

His eyes narrowed, Christopher retorted with, "You really expect me to believe that's all, Lor?"

Perplexed, Lorelai raised her eyebrows and said, "Yeah, I do. That's what happened. I don't see what's so odd about that."

"It's barely nine in the morning on a weekend, and the guy that you so adamantly swore to your mother you weren't dating is at your house, no doubt making eyes at you while you're lazing around in your pajamas over breakfast. I'm not a fool Lorelai; it doesn't take a rocket scientist to work out he stayed the night."

"Are you serious?" Lorelai demanded incredulously. "If that's the case, then where do you think this coffee cup magically appeared from? Do you think I have a diner set up in my lounge room? Not that it's any of your business who comes and goes from my house, but Luke did not and has never stayed the night here. He came and fixed my porch rail and when the noise woke me up, I came downstairs to find out what the racket was. End of story."

"Sure," he murmured, still looking unconvinced. "You know, whether you're together or not, I'm not thrilled about the idea of some guy hanging around here. Rory's my daughter too and I don't want her spending a lot of time with him. I mean, he went to her Father's Day celebrations…he's obviously not just some tradesperson you call on to help out around the house."

"You're right; he's much more than just a tradesperson. As I clearly spelt out last night, he's our friend," Lorelai explained indignantly. "I'm sorry Christopher, but the day you decided to run off to Chicago – hell, even the day you decided a White Sox game was more important than your daughter – that was when you gave up the right to have any say over who I allow into mine and Rory's life. You can't just waltz in here whenever you feel the urge and think you can control who we socialize with. Here's a news flash for you: parenting isn't a part-time job. Either you're in it for the long haul and we both share the load day-in, day-out, or you accept that I will raise Rory how I see fit. Are we clear?" she demanded angrily.

"Crystal," Christopher spat, turning his back on her as he exhaled a frustrated sigh. "So can I still see her or not?" he finally asked a little more calmly, running a hand through his hair.

"Of course you can see her," Lorelai answered quietly. "You know I'll never keep Rory from you. I don't wanna fight Chris. Look, let's just go inside and have a cup of coffee while we wait for her to wake up, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he agreed begrudgingly, following Lorelai inside.

-o-

 _Would you like to have dinner with me?_

Eight simple words. And yet, try as he might, Luke couldn't seem to force them from his lips.

It wasn't that he didn't want to say them. Or even that he found the concept of asking someone out to be too daunting. Hell, he'd successfully asked out numerous women in his time.

No, it was because he was a giant pansy, he concluded. He was terrified, plain and simple. Not of being rejected, but of losing what he had already. Lorelai Gilmore was a lot of things, but pro-commitment wasn't one of them. And if he asked too much of her too soon, he risked losing their friendship; risked losing her and Rory's visits to the diner once or twice a week; and worst of all, risked having her run for the hills and never looking back.

"Coward," he muttered under his breath, slamming the cash register drawer a little more forcefully than necessary.

He'd spent the better part of the night before rehearsing his speech and it had all amounted to nothing. In his head, he'd finish fixing the porch railing, then offer to make them breakfast – something more substantial than the pair of cherry Danishes he'd delivered. They'd talk and tease like they always did, and then when Rory was engrossed in a book or busy polishing off the remains of the pancake batter from the bowl, he'd pull Lorelai aside and make his move. Eight simple words.

Who was he kidding? Lorelai would never let Rory lick the bowl without her; he should have known the plan was doomed to fail from the outset.

What he hadn't counted on was Christopher showing up, looking suave in his black jeans and fitted shirt while Luke practically melted in the summer heat. As much as he despised the guy for bailing on Lorelai and Rory, he could understand the appeal he would have posed to a teenage Lorelai. Tall, dark, handsome and popular, with just a handful of bad boy thrown in for good measure, Christopher was everything he himself wasn't, Luke thought bitterly. He didn't have a hope of her agreeing to go out with him.

Glancing out the front window of the diner, Luke fixed his attention on the trio as they paused momentarily in front of the gazebo. Rory was excitedly leading Christopher around the town square, her hand gently pulling his as she pointed out key features of the town.

How was it that Lorelai and Rory had lived in Stars Hollow for the better part of the last decade, and yet this was the first time Christopher had visited them there? Luke honestly couldn't fathom how the guy had walked away from them. He could possibly understand that as a naïve, 16-year-old boy, immaturity got the best of Christopher. After all, not many teenagers were forced to grow up as quickly as Luke. But what was his excuse now? If Lorelai and Rory were his, Luke reasoned, he would never let them go.

A request for coffee drawing him from his reverie, Luke's cheeks flushed crimson at being caught staring, and he quickly reached for the coffee pot.

One day, he'd manage to utter those eight simple words. He just hoped that when it finally happened, it wouldn't be too late.

-o-

Lorelai and Rory sat surrounded by all manner of candy, the empty Red Vines box long discarded and the few remaining pieces of popcorn now cold.

With Mia having gone out of town to visit her son, the Gilmores had agreed to stay the night at the elder woman's home to keep watch over her neurotic pet Chihuahua, Champ. Following an afternoon of nail painting, indulging the pooch in a game of fetch and doing their best to ease the animal's seemingly ever-present anxiety, they were now camped out on Mia's couch, engrossed in a screening of _Aladdin_.

Lorelai glanced around the room, watching on as Rory silently mouthed the words being spoken on screen. They'd both seen the film at least 15 times.

She liked Mia's house. After having grown up in her parents' soulless and oversized mansion, Lorelai had always gravitated toward smaller, more homely dwellings. Despite Mia's house being quite large, she had to admit there was something warm and inviting about it. The walls were plastered with photos of Mia's family and friends – natural shots, not the posed portraits that adorned the walls of the Gilmore mansion – and the expansive wooden porch beckoned to her. She could imagine Mia and her husband in years gone by relaxing outside and sipping sweet tea or a glass of wine as their children frolicked in the front yard. Perhaps a miniature Luke and Liz had joined them from time to time when their parents had come to visit.

Mia's house was located on the outskirts of town – close enough to the inn for her to travel to work easily, but far enough away from the hustle and bustle that the houses weren't piled up on top of each other. Set on acreage, the property was surrounded by a thick line of trees, giving the impression of being tucked away in a private oasis. It was a great house for a family, Lorelai concluded.

Turning her attention back to the television, Lorelai watched as Aladdin snuck back into the palace after being trapped in the mountains. Not a moment later, the image abruptly disappeared from the screen, the TV fading to black and the entire house plunging into darkness.

"Damn!" Lorelai cursed, squinting as she tried to make out anything in the pitch black room. "You okay babe?"

"Yeah," came Rory's meek reply as she immediately sought her mother's hand in the darkness. They remained in their seats, waiting to see whether the power would come back on. After a minute with no change, Lorelai finally rose from the couch to determine the cause of the problem and commence the search for some flashlights or candles.

"Okay, I'm going to go outside and check the power box babe; try to work out if it's just us or the whole area that's lost power. Can you sit tight for me right here?"

At Rory's whimper, Lorelai pulled her into an embrace, smoothing her hair as she said, "It'll be fine baby, I promise. It's just a blackout. There's no point having both of us stumbling around in the dark. I'll pop outside and try to find the power box, and I'll come straight back here once I'm done, okay? There's nothing to be afraid of."

Giving her daughter's hand a reassuring squeeze, Lorelai edged her way toward the front door, her hands outstretched as she attempted to feel her way around the dark room. Locating the handle and pulling the door open, she was disappointed to see the sliver of a crescent moon, which barely emitted any light to help her cause. Standing on the porch, she rose up onto her toes to peer off into the distance and determine whether any other houses in the neighborhood had lost power too. She couldn't locate any balls of light which suggested either the whole town was in the midst of a power outage, or simply that the tree line was blocking her view. With the houses so spread out in this part of Stars Hollow it was difficult to tell.

Clinging to the porch rail and cautiously making her way down the front steps, Lorelai attempted to locate the power box on the outside of the house. After a few minutes of searching unsuccessfully, she paused to consider her options. She could go back inside and try to find some candles or a flashlight, although she wasn't sure how fruitful her efforts would be in an unfamiliar house. She could drive home, but then again, she also wasn't sure where she'd find a flashlight in the house if her power was out too. They hadn't needed one since moving out of the potting shed, so she suspected it was tucked away in one of the boxes she'd never gotten around to unpacking and wouldn't be easy to find in the dark.

Making up her mind, she set off toward the front door once again, intent on calling Sookie from Mia's house phone to determine whether the whole town was in the midst of an outage. If other houses had been affected as well, she'd work out a plan to get hold of a flashlight or candles. If it was just isolated to Mia's house, she'd drive home and locate her flashlight, then come back to try and find the power box again. Hopefully the safety switch had just tripped and she could easily restore the power. She briefly considered taking Rory and the Chihuahua home for the night, but figured the neurotic dog was already anxious enough in his own space, let alone in an unfamiliar house. Power or no power, Lorelai was staying the night at Mia's.

After returning to Rory's side and leading her to the phone in the kitchen, Lorelai dialed Sookie's number, willing her to pick up. Her friend's cheerful voice sounded through the phone line, but Lorelai was disappointed to hear it was simply the recorded message on her answering machine. Sighing, she hung up, then racked her brain trying to think of another Stars Hollow townie whose number she knew by heart. _Luke_. She didn't know his home number, but she'd called the diner enough times begging for coffee to have memorized the digits.

If the diner had lost power as well he may have closed already and headed up to his apartment, but it was worth a try. Even if he was upstairs, he might still hear the phone.

Luke snatched up the receiver on the second ring, barking, " _Luke's_ " as he wiped down the counter one last time for the evening in the flickering candlelight.

"Hey, it's me," she greeted, relieved he'd answered.

"Lorelai?"

"No, Kurt Cobain back from the dead," she quipped, unable to resist. "Sorry to bother you at this hour. Our power's out and I wondered whether it's just us or if the town square's out too?"

"Yeah, looks like the whole town is out from what I can see," he confirmed. "Are you and Rory okay?"

"Yep, fine," she affirmed. "We're staying at Mia's while she's out of town so we couldn't tell through the trees whether it was just her place or the whole area that was affected. I couldn't find the power box in the dark to check the safety switch so thought I'd call someone in town to find out before I bothered hunting around for a flashlight or some candles."

"Do you know where she keeps them?"

"No. Do you?" Lorelai asked hopefully, aware that she wouldn't be able to reach Mia to find out without knowing her son's phone number. Mia hadn't been swept up in the 90s cell phone craze yet.

"No, no idea sorry," he murmured. "Sit tight okay? I'll grab a couple of my camping lights and bring them around for you."

"Oh no, that's okay Luke," she protested. "I'm sure they won't be that hard to find, honestly."

"I'm not leaving you out there wandering around in the dark," he replied firmly. "I'll see you in 10," he added, not giving her a chance to rebut before hanging up the phone.

Lorelai felt the corner of her lips turn upwards as she hung up the phone, feeling strangely comforted by the knowledge that Luke was on his way.

"Looks like the whole town has lost power sweet cheeks," she explained to Rory. "Luke's going to stop by with some camping lights for us soon, so we'll just need to hang out in the dark for a tiny bit longer. How about we go and sit on the porch to wait for him, and then we can look for that fraidy-cat pooch as soon as we have some lights inside?"

Rory agreed, allowing her mother to lead her outside. Lorelai shone the lights of her Jeep onto the porch so Rory wouldn't be too distressed. Despite being just a few months away from her eleventh birthday, the young girl was still a little skittish in the dark.

Cradling her daughter close, Lorelai chattered away, intent on distracting Rory from the rustling of the trees as they swayed in the night. The last thing she needed was for Rory to work herself up into a panic and be too scared to sleep.

A few minutes later, Lorelai spotted headlights turning onto the drive and smiled as Luke's beaten truck pulled up in front of the house.

"Look who's here kiddo," she said enthusiastically, prompting Rory to jump to her feet and smile broadly.

"Luke!" Rory called, not quite brave enough to run down the steps toward him, but excited nonetheless.

"Hey Squirt. Heard you and your mom could do with a few lights," he acknowledged with a smile, holding up two camping lanterns and a flashlight as he stepped out of the vehicle.

"Thanks for coming Luke," Lorelai said gratefully. "We really appreciate it."

After switching off the Jeep's headlights, the trio headed inside to set up in the living room. Once the camp lights were burning brightly, they began the search for the elusive dog, who was no doubt cowering beneath a piece of furniture somewhere.

"Antonio Banderas," Rory called loudly, Lorelai echoing her cry.

"I thought Mia's dog was named Champ?" Luke asked with a confused frown, shining the flashlight across the length of the room to light their path.

"Yeah, well, we felt Champ was a little uninspiring for a dog of his caliber so he's exploring his options," Lorelai explained, crumpling a bag of dog food to entice the pet out of his hiding spot. "Here puppy!"

"Antonio Banderas? Seriously?" Luke asked incredulously, following the elder Gilmore into the dining room.

"Actually, his full name is José Antonio Domínguez Banderas," Lorelai explained, bending down beside her daughter to look for the fur-ball beneath the dining room table. "Antonio Banderas for short."

"The dog or the actor?"

"Both. With Chihuahuas being Mexican and all, Antonio Banderas seemed more fitting than Champ."

"Uh…you know the real Antonio Banderas is Spanish right?" Luke countered, his eyebrows raised.

Lorelai pulled up mid-stride, her jaw dropping in surprise. "You're kidding! I can't believe all those years I dreamed about him serving me an all-you-can-eat taco buffet will amount to nothing."

"Everybody's shocked," Luke grumbled sarcastically. "Also, I suppose now probably wouldn't be the best time to mention Mia's dog is more of an Antonia than an Antonio?"

"Wait, it's a _girl_?" Lorelai asked in surprise. "Huh. I guess that would explain the intense interest in our nail painting session."

Luke merely rolled his eyes, refusing to dignify her insanity with a proper response.

After several minutes of combing the house for the missing pooch, Luke finally located the Chihuahua huddling beneath Mia's bed. With some careful cajoling, Lorelai and Rory coaxed Antonia Banderas out from her hiding spot, Rory drawing the dog up into her arms and cradling the ball of fur to her chest.

"So Mia left you in charge of the dog, huh?" Luke asked Lorelai as they made their way back toward to the living room, skepticism and a hint of teasing evident in his tone.

"You say that like you're surprised."

"Well, she does know about your track record with the hamster right?"

"I stand by the fact Skippy was defective," Lorelai huffed, glaring at him. "That hamster had it in for me since day one. Spawn of Satan would have been a more fitting name for it."

"Right. And how about the turtle? Evilspawn as well?"

"Urban myth that they live to be over 100," she grumbled. "I maintain it was sick when I got it."

"I'm sure it was," he acquiesced, his eyes dancing with humour.

As they descended the stairs, it occurred to Lorelai that she should probably check on the Independence Inn and make sure the night manager hadn't had any problems locating the generator following the power outage.

Once Rory was settled on the couch and busy fussing over Antonia Banderas, Lorelai pulled Luke aside briefly to explain her daughter's fear of the dark and ask if he would mind keeping her occupied for a few minutes while Lorelai called the inn. As always, Luke was more than willing to lend a hand, waving her off toward the phone in the kitchen and assuring her it was no problem for him to stay for a while and keep Rory distracted.

Lorelai was relieved to hear the inn was running smoothly and the guests were content, the power having been restored within 15 minutes thanks to the generator they kept in the basement. She helped the night manager to troubleshoot a few minor problems, finally hanging up around 10 minutes later.

Walking back into the lounge room — one of the camp lights stretched out in front of her to light her path — Lorelai was surprised to find a significantly different landscape to the one she had left a short time ago. The lounges had been completely stripped of their cushions and Luke and Rory sat perched on Mia's giant Turkish carpet, surrounded by the sea of pillows.

"Wow, you two planning on casing the joint and flogging all of Mia's furniture before the night's out?" she joked.

"We're making a magic carpet Mom!" Rory explained, her eyes alight with excitement. "Just like in _Aladdin_."

"Ooooh fun! Mind if I join in?" she asked, dropping her knees to the carpet at Rory's nod of approval. "Cool idea kid."

"Actually, it was Luke's idea," Rory countered, prompting Luke to flush with embarrassment and lower his eyes to the floor. "I told him we were watching it when the power went out and he said we should make our own magic carpet," she added, beaming.

Luke's cheeks only got redder as Lorelai shot him a grateful smile.

"So where's this bad boy taking us tonight?" Lorelai inquired, running her hands over the soft fibres of the carpet. "Beijing? Istanbul? Dubai? Marrakesh?"

"Where's Marrakesh, Mom?" Rory asked inquisitively.

"In Africa babe. It's a city in Morocco."

"Let's go there," Rory decided, nodding her head.

"You comin' to check out the spice markets with us Aladdin?" Lorelai asked Luke, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

She couldn't quite work out the mumbled words that escaped his lips in response, but took his continued presence on the carpet as a positive sign.

Lorelai began to sway from side to side, making swooshing noises to suggest the magic carpet was flying through the air. Rory giggled, raising her hands up in the air as if reaching up to touch the stars.

"Look out!" Lorelai called. We're coming in to land and it's going to be a bumpy descent! All passengers are requested to put their head between their legs and kiss their ass goodb…."

"Mom!" Rory scolded, her eyes alight with laughter. Luke couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips as Lorelai acted out the carpet coming to a screeching halt.

"Time to go shopping fellow travellers! What should we buy kid?" Lorelai inquired. "Some colourful glass lights? A bag of spices? A gold bracelet?"

"A magic lamp!" Rory called excitedly.

"Geez, what do you think I am? Made of money? The magic ones don't come cheap," Lorelai teased, winking at her daughter.

"Ah well, lucky I stole some gold from the Cave of Wonders," Luke piped up much to Lorelai's surprise, reaching into his pocket and pretending to produce some gold coins. "What? Who hasn't seen _Aladdin_?" he grunted, daring her to mock him as he dropped the invisible coins into Rory's palm.

"A magic lamp it is!" Lorelai exclaimed with enthusiasm, picking up the flashlight and pulling Rory toward the kitchen on their pretend tour of the market stalls. They reappeared two minutes later, Rory clutching a teapot that Luke assumed was supposedly their newly purchased magic lamp.

"She haggled hard and came out on top," Lorelai informed him proudly, giving Rory an affectionate pat on the head.

"Nice one Squirt," he said with a wink. "You going to give it a good rub and conjure up that genie?"

" _Don't_ ," He added sternly to Lorelai, anticipating her whispered 'dirty!' before the word could leave her lips.

Resuming her seat on the carpet beside her pouting mother, Rory rubbed the outside of the teapot, letting out a fake gasp of surprise to indicate that the genie had appeared in front of them.

"He says we can each have three wishes and the only thing we can't wish for is for more wishes," Rory explained.

"Show us how it's done Sweets," Lorelai encouraged. "You go first."

After taking a minute to consider her options, Rory finally said, "Okay, wish number one: One day, I want to study at Harvard. And wish number two: I want to be a journalist just like Christiane Amanpour."

"You're wasting wishes there kiddo," Luke admonished playfully. "You're going to achieve both of those things without the help of a genie. Might as well use your remaining wish on something you really, really want but don't have a lot of control over."

Rory pondered for a long while, wracking her brain to decide on what she wanted most in the world. Finally, a huge grin adorned her face as she exclaimed, "I know! I want a family like the ones on TV! Mom of course," she added, smiling at Lorelai. "And a dad. A baby brother or sister would be cool too. And a dog! But maybe not one that's scared of its own shadow like Antonia Banderas. One that likes to play and curls up on my bed to go to sleep every night."

Lorelai plastered a smile on her face, but inside, she felt her heart plunge into her stomach at Rory's words. She wanted to give her daughter the world, but this was one wish that would remain un-granted, at least for the foreseeable future. As an only child herself, she'd always wanted her daughter to grow up with a sibling, but falling pregnant with Rory so unexpectedly and at such a young age had shattered that pipedream. If she could get through the night without accidentally killing or losing Antonia Banderas, she reasoned she could at least think about getting a dog now they had moved into their own house. It wasn't the perfect family complete with white picket fence, but it was a start and it would make her daughter happy.

Lorelai was shaken from her thoughts when she registered Rory waving the teapot in front of her face and saying, "Your turn Mom."

"Hmm…." Lorelai pondered, mulling over her options. What did she want most in the world? To not screw up with raising Rory; that was the most important. To see her daughter graduate from Harvard; to not be such a huge disappointment to her parents; to be able to put food on the table every night and keep a roof over their heads — those were the big ones. But of course, she wouldn't verbalize most of them.

Gently rubbing her hand back and forth over the surface of the teapot, she said, "Okay, wish number one: I want to see my baby girl graduate from Harvard one day. Luke's right though; I don't need to waste my wish on that one. It will happen if you want it to and you work hard for it," she assured Rory.

"Wish number two: I think I want to own my own inn one day. Something really homely and quirky and welcoming. Maybe Sookie and I could team up. And wish number three: I want a candy store in my living room, with a never-ending supply of candy. Ooh and Pop-Tarts!"

"Figures," Luke grumbled, a scowl appearing on his face at her final request.

"Your turn Luke!" Rory encouraged excitedly, watching as her mother passed the teapot to Luke.

Luke's three wishes were a no-brainer. He thought about them almost every day, so they came to him immediately. Impossible as it was, he desperately wanted to have his parents back again. He wanted Lorelai Gilmore to return his affections and he wanted exactly what Rory wanted — the full white picket fence scenario, complete with two Gilmores, an extra baby or two and yes, even a goddamn dog if that would make them happy. He'd give anything in the world to have those wishes granted.

Fixing his gaze on Rory, he rubbed the teapot lightly before saying, "Okay, wish number one: I want to go back to my dad's cabin in the woods. Go fishing with him and make some pies with my mom. Hang out just like we used to."

"Wish number two: I want to stop you two eating junk food. No curly fries. No Pop-Tarts. No Mallomars. No living room candy bars. No coffee," he added pointedly, glaring at Lorelai.

"Wish number three: I want Taylor to create a dedicated annual Luke Day in Stars Hollow, where there are no decorations; no cardigans; no bogus local laws and most importantly, no visits from him bugging me to hang up some sign or garland in my diner. _That's_ one holiday I'd happily participate in."

Rory giggled, her belly laugh becoming even louder when her mom rolled her eyes and scowled, "Grinch."

"So kid," Lorelai added, looking at her watch. "It's getting kind of late. You ready to fly back to Stars Hollow for the night?"

Rory nodded, rearranging some of the cushions beneath her as she lay back on the carpet between Luke and Lorelai. A yawn escaping her lips, she turned to her mother and asked, "Will you tell me the ending to _Aladdin_?"

"You've seen it three million times already," Lorelai teased, but nonetheless, she spread out on her side beside her daughter and began to recount the final scenes, detailing the genie's release and Aladdin's marriage to Princess Jasmine.

"You got any princess stories Luke?" Rory asked innocently, patting the cushion next to her in invitation as her mother finished the narrative. Despite being enamoured with Hemingway, Dickens and Orwell, the young girl still enjoyed a good fairytale. Princess Jasmine was one of her favorite characters.

"Ah, I don't really know any princess stories sorry Squirt," he apologized, joining them in reclining on the carpet.

"Sure you do. Just make one up; say whatever comes to your mind. I'll start and you finish the sentence. Once upon a time, there was a princess named…"

"Er…." Luke stalled, feeling completely out of his depth but unwilling to disappoint Rory's hopeful face staring up at him expectantly. His eyes landing on Lorelai, he stuttered, "Lor…Laura. The princess' name was Laura."

Nodding, Rory continued to fix her gaze on him, encouraging him to go on.

"She was…umm….the most beautiful girl in the whole kingdom. All of the princes thought so. Smart too. They would travel from all over the world to meet her. Her mother, Queen…er…Emma, couldn't wait for the day that Princess Laura would be married."

"Was Queen Emma an evil stepmother?" Rory asked seriously, enthralled. Luke dared not look at the smirk he suspected was adorning Lorelai's face.

"Um…yeah…I guess you could say she was," he shrugged. "Maybe not totally evil, but she could be very mean to Princess Laura. She…umm…was always caught up with riches and planning balls for the noblemen of the kingdom."

"Did Princess Laura live in a castle?" Rory asked, eager to hear more.

"Yep. A giant palace decorated with the finest carpets and mirrors and paintings," Luke explained, gaining more confidence as he continued. "Everyone who saw it was amazed, but Princess Laura didn't feel at home there. It was too big and showy, and she always felt very lonely when Queen Emma locked her up in the tallest room in the tallest tower."

"Why did the queen do that?"

"Umm…a few reasons. Princess Laura sometimes got tired of her princess duties and just wanted to spend time with her friends and wander amongst the common folk. This made Queen Emma really mad because she didn't think this was proper behavior for a princess. She'd force Laura to stay in the castle and make her attend lots of balls and fancy dinners."

Luke then added, "I think the queen was also scared of losing Princess Laura. The princess loved to explore and she was a very bubbly and determined girl. Queen Emma was worried Princess Laura might run away to another kingdom where she could make new friends and laugh and play all day long."

"Did she run away?" Rory asked earnestly, not daring to take her eyes off Luke's.

"It's funny you should ask that. One day, Princess Laura was out um…playing in the palace garden when she heard a noise coming from the rows of corn. She pushed the plants aside and stumbled upon a wooden basket. When she looked closer, she saw a beautiful pair of sparkling blue eyes staring back at her."

"What was in the basket?" Rory breathed.

"A tiny baby," Luke answered confidently. "She had rosy cheeks and chubby little fists and Princess Laura loved her the moment she saw her."

"Where did she come from?" Rory asked.

Luke shrugged. "No one knows. Maybe one of the poor townsfolk climbed the palace walls and placed her in the garden in the hope the royal family would take care of her. Maybe she was always supposed to be with Princess Laura so she magically appeared in the garden. That's what Princess Laura liked to think. Whatever the reason, Princess Laura knew she had to take care of the little girl."

"What was her name?"

"I think we should call her Rory," he added with a wink, causing Rory to smile. The young girl was oblivious to the story's undertones. "What do you think?"

At Rory's enthusiastic nod, he continued on.

"So Princess Laura took baby Rory into the castle. She fed her, bathed her, cradled her when she cried and rocked her to sleep in her arms night after night. She tried to hide Rory from Queen Emma to begin with, and it worked for a while, but eventually the queen heard the baby's cries and discovered the princess' secret. She insisted Rory be placed in the care of the palace staff and raised as a princess. Queen Emma had always longed for a daughter that would happily attend her grand balls and formal dinners, and she thought baby Rory might be her second chance."

"Naturally, Princess Laura was heartbroken when Rory was taken from her. She tried to convince the palace staff to let her help with raising her but they were under strict orders from Queen Emma to care for the baby themselves. Princess Laura couldn't bear to watch baby Rory grow up in the castle. Queen Emma had decided to keep her locked within the palace walls forever so she wouldn't associate with the townsfolk and peasants."

"Princess Laura did the only thing she could. She waited until the middle of the night and tip-toed down to Rory's room, fleeing the castle with the sleeping baby and a small handful of gold coins that she'd been able to gather. She collected a horse from the stable and rode into the darkness, far away from the kingdom."

Flicking his gaze to Lorelai, Luke softened his voice as he murmured pointedly, "I think Princess Laura was incredibly brave to do what she did."

Lorelai felt a pang in her chest at his words, her breath long having left her body as he regaled the tale to her captivated daughter. Turning his attention back to Rory, he continued on with the narrative, smiling down at the little girl whose eyes were fast beginning to droop with sleep.

"After riding the horse until dawn, Princess Laura and baby Rory arrived on the outskirts of a tiny village. They were both tired and hungry and desperately in need of a place to rest. Finally, Princess Laura noticed what looked like a cottage in the distance. She let the horse run off deep into the forest, aware that if she kept it and the kingdom army ever came looking, the soldiers would immediately recognize the royal family emblem branded on its ear. She made her way to the cottage on foot, all the while doing her best to shield baby Rory from the light drizzle that had begun to fall, and praying that she would be greeted with a friendly face when she arrived. As she moved closer, she realized the cottage was just one dwelling on the property and there also appeared to be a much larger guesthouse located behind a line of trees."

"Weary from the journey, she tucked the baby to her chest and knocked on the door. The manager of the guesthouse was a kind lady who immediately realized Princess Laura needed help and happily took her and baby Rory in. Princess Laura was dying for a coffee by that point," Luke added with a snort, unable to avoid glancing in Lorelai's direction briefly.

"What happened next?" Rory mumbled sleepily, her eyes fighting hard to stay open.

"The manager said she was looking for some help at the guesthouse, and if Princess Laura – or Laura as she'd introduced herself – was willing to work, she would offer her a small salary and allow her and Rory to board at the cottage on the grounds. It was pretty run down, but Laura didn't mind. It felt like home. She worked very hard day in, day out. She sewed clothes for her and Rory and got to know her new boss and the other people living in the village. Some villagers were a bit crazy but they were all nice and very welcoming. She especially liked this one young man she eventually met who sold fresh produce at a market stall in the middle of town. She claimed it was because he made good coffee but it was really because she thought he was a total stud. All the girls in town did," Luke added cockily, glancing at Lorelai and prompting her to drop her jaw and shake her head in mock outrage at the blatant embellishment.

"Anyway," Luke went on, laughter evident in his tone. "Rory continued to grow and the girls were inseparable. Laura heard whispers from time-to-time that a princess from a neighboring kingdom had disappeared on horseback and that that a battalion of soldiers was scouring the countryside for her and the baby she carried, but they never looked in this particular village, which Laura was grateful for."

"While the villagers didn't know she was a princess, that didn't stop them from being captivated by Laura's charms. The women thrived on her energy and infectious laughter and the gentlemen were lined up in the streets begging for her hand in marriage. But Laura was smart and she wouldn't settle for just anyone; the successful suiter would need to love little Rory with all his heart too. The villagers all adored Rory, who had grown into a sweet and gentle young girl, and they were very protective of her and Laura."

On a roll with his ramble, it took a while for Luke to notice that Rory had finally drifted off to sleep. When he took in her motionless form, he trailed off with his story, reaching out a hand to smooth her hair away from her face. The younger Gilmore had flipped onto her stomach and nestled into a handful of couch cushions, her face peaceful in slumber.

Without a word, Lorelai rose to her feet and collected a throw from the couch. She switched the lounge room lights to the off position and hit the off button on the TV to ensure it didn't roar to life when the power came back on, leaving just a lamp plugged in to alert them when power was restored. Returning to Rory's side, she draped the throw over her sleeping daughter, turned off all bar one of the camp lanterns, then resumed her position stretched out on her side amid the cluster of cushions.

They laid there together in silence, Antonia Banderas tucked away beneath the coffee table and Rory sleeping soundly between Lorelai and Luke. Neither wanted to broach the subject of Luke heading home.

"So what happens next?" Lorelai murmured sleepily, her eyes locating his in the faint glow of the remaining lantern and her palm coming to rest on Rory's back. "Does Princess Laura find her Prince Charming?"

"No," he murmured softly, flipping onto his back.

"No? What kind of fairytale is that?"

"She wouldn't want a Prince. That's what Queen Emma would want for her."

"True," Lorelai acquiesced, sleep threatening to overtake her.

"A knight in shining armor maybe, but definitely not a prince."

The words hovered between them, each embracing the sense of intimacy that blanketed them in the darkness but content with their own thoughts.

After a few minutes of silence, Luke plucked up the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing him incessantly. Those eight simple words were finally ready to spring free.

Clearing his throat, he fixed his eyes firmly on the ceiling before murmuring, "Lorelai, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

When she didn't respond immediately, Luke rolled back up onto his side, focusing his gaze on her in the dim light. Her lips were parted in a soft 'o' and her chest rose and fell rhythmically with each delicate breath. She was asleep.

Staring at Lorelai's lithe form, Luke couldn't bring himself to feel disappointment at the missed opportunity. The moment was somehow too perfect to disrupt. His two favorite people were curled up in front of him, sleeping soundly, safe in the knowledge that no harm would come to them while he was by their side.

Struck by the sudden urge to protect the two beauties that made his world turn, Luke tugged on the edges of the throw, drawing some of the excess material from Rory's side to ensure it adequately covered both Gilmores. His arm still outstretched, Luke lowered his hand to cover Lorelai's smaller one where it rested lightly on Rory's back. She didn't stir at the contact; merely slipped further into her slumberous state, relaxed and content.

Exhaling softly, Luke continued to take in the mesmerizing scene in front of him, eventually drifting into a dreamless sleep. He didn't know how the story would end, but he was at least sure of one thing: right now, in this moment, he was right where he belonged.

-o-

Lorelai blinked sleepily, her eyelids fighting to stay open as she registered the shrill sound of an appliance beeping briefly in the next room. Taking a moment to orient herself, she took in the glow of the lamp nearby and the low hum of the fridge in Mia's kitchen, finally concluding that the power must have just been restored.

As always, her natural instinct was to check on her daughter, and she quickly turned her attention to Rory's prone form. As expected, the 10-year-old was oblivious to the noise, sleeping soundly on the makeshift bed of cushions.

Her brain still foggy with sleep, Lorelai vaguely registered that she too had somehow ended up beneath the throw that covered Rory. _Luke_.

Shifting her gaze slightly, she took in every contour of his masculine face. Even in sleep, he was beautiful, his dark lashes fanning over his cheeks as he drew deep, even breaths. She itched to trace her fingertips over the faint laugh lines that creased the corners of his eyes; to rest her palm against the stubble lining his jaw and to run her hands through the curls at the nape of his neck.

She wouldn't of course. That was a clear breach of friend territory and this was one friendship she couldn't afford to ruin.

Despite having always felt a certain affinity with Luke since meeting him, she sensed their bond had strengthened tenfold over the past month or so. Tonight more than ever, she'd felt that connection, her friend's presence filling her with a sense of both warmth and calm. Not even Mia or Sookie could make her feel that safe or comfortable in her own skin.

Her eyes settling on their adjoined hands, Lorelai took a moment to absorb the feel of his warm, work-roughened palm against the back of her hand. It had been a while since she'd felt a man's touch, innocent as it was. A man, not some immature 20-something pretending to have her best interests at heart. Unlike Rory's father, Luke was a man; that much she was sure of.

After spending the morning with Christopher, Lorelai couldn't help but draw the parallels between the two males. Christopher was well-intentioned but unreliable. Impulsive; immature; even a bit selfish, she concluded.

Luke, on the other hand, was steady; dependable; loyal; and above all else, willing to put others ahead of himself. She suspected this stemmed largely from the adversity he'd faced in his teenage years, but she also knew it was his strength of character that had allowed him to deal with his parents' deaths in the first place. Christopher hadn't been able to deal with a baby and yet Luke had shouldered the burden of caring for his parents in their final days, taking on the role of caregiver for his sister, running an already failing hardware store, funding exorbitant medical bills and somehow managing to carve a successful career for himself.

Lorelai, like most Stars Hollow residents, held him in high esteem. She would be forever grateful to Luke for the kindness and protectiveness he consistently showed toward her and Rory, despite not being obligated to do so. She couldn't imagine her life without him in it; didn't want to.

Assaulted by the sudden need to be closer to this staggeringly generous and caring being, Lorelai settled for flipping her palm so it faced upwards, entwining her dainty fingers with his larger ones.

Feeling the automatic warmth run through her, Lorelai smiled contentedly, relishing the feeling of having her best friend by her side. No matter what obstacles came her way, she knew her life was infinitely better for having him in it.

-o-


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** I'd love to know your thoughts on this chapter. I think there will definitely be some groans of frustration but promise me you'll stick it out to the end. Luke might just surprise you!

 **Hint:** Flick back to chapter three if you happen to stumble across a key character in this chapter that doesn't sound familiar to you! The chapter should still make sense without checking back or having any background but just in case there's anyone who wants their memory jogged, you know where to go.

 **Warning:** This chapter does contain a teeny tiny bit of mature content. It's barely enough to bat an eyelid at but consider this fair warning to turn back now if that's not your style.

Happy reading x

-o-

Lorelai sat bolt upright, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Taking in her surroundings, her ragged breathing finally slowed when she came to the realization she was at home in bed. Unaccompanied.

Exhaling in relief, she flopped back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as her brain fought to process the dream.

Luke. Her and Luke. Luke touching her. Luke kissing her. Luke in her bed. What was she _thinking_?

As she tried to brush the lustful thoughts from her mind, her attention was drawn to the telltale dampness between her legs. _Damn Gilmore, you're hard up_ , she grimaced.

Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, Lorelai made her way to the bathroom, leaning her back against the door as she closed it behind her. She stayed there for a few moments, her mind racing as memories of the dream assaulted her.

Luke's callused hand trailing up her creamy white thigh. Luke's hot breath on her breast, his tongue enveloping the rosy pink bud as he suckled greedily. Luke's muscles bunching as he hovered above her, preparing to fill her with his warmth.

Shaking herself from her reverie, Lorelai forced herself to turn on the shower spray. Cold, that's what she needed.

Bustling through the doors of the Independence Inn kitchen 50 minutes later, she forewent the coffee pot, marching directly to Sookie's side in her haste for answers.

"I had a dream," she blurted, startling the chef.

"Oh, well good on you honey. So did Martin Luther King. Good morning by the way."

"Morning," Lorelai mumbled automatically, quickly returning to her previous statement. "Sook, I had a _really_ weird dream," she persisted.

"Oh, like the time you dreamed you were at the zoo and Audrey Hepburn appeared and said she'd take you to the promised land and you ended up in the gorilla cage?" Sookie asked with a laugh.

"Um, not exactly."

"Or the time you dreamed the gazebo was on fire and Taylor declared we all had to wear fire retardant clothing every day for the rest of our lives and confiscated your favorite sweater?"

"No, not really like that."

"Or the time…"

"Sook!" Lorelai interrupted, her eyes pleading with her to understand. "Can we…?" she trailed off, glancing around at the other kitchen staff and jerking her head slightly to indicate a little privacy wouldn't go astray.

"Oh!" Sookie responded, the penny dropping. "Guys, time to take a break. Wind it up and I'll see you back here in 10," she called, wiping her hands on a towel and turning to face Lorelai as the other staff exited the kitchen. Luckily, the head chef wasn't scheduled to be in until 11am so Sookie had control of the kitchen.

"I had a dream," Lorelai repeated anxiously.

"Like a dirty dream?" Sookie questioned, finally landing on the same page as her friend.

"No, I mean, kind of…well, yeah," Lorelai finished lamely.

"Was it Clooney?" the chef hedged knowingly. "Because I know you've always had a thing for him."

"No, that's Richard Gere," Lorelai corrected, waving her hand dismissively. "But it wasn't him Sook."

"Who was it then?"

"Uh, no one," Lorelai said awkwardly.

"Oh, well power to you girl. Sisters doing it for themselves," she added with a wink.

"Oh God, Sookie. No!" Lorelai exclaimed. "It was just a random guy. No one I know," she lied. "What do you think it means?"

"It probably doesn't mean anything honey," Sookie said indifferently. "You're a hot-blooded, single woman with needs. It's only natural you're gonna think about it from time to time. Hell, who doesn't?"

"Yes, but…" Lorelai trailed off, wondering how to phrase her question without giving away that she'd been thinking of Luke. "When you've had those dreams before, do they happen…I mean, are they...is it with a stranger or someone you know?"

Pondering for a moment, Sookie finally answered, "It's always someone I'm attracted to. Like, I might not always know them personally — the Billy Crystal dream proved that — but for me, it's always a real person, so I guess that's different from yours."

"Billy Crystal? Eww," Lorelai said aghast, her face twisting with revulsion.

"What? He was a hoot in _When Harry Met Sally_ ," Sookie shrugged. "I even had a dream about the produce guy's new trainee," she added cheekily, her voice dropping as she revealed her secret.

"Jackson?" Lorelai asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Let's just say if the dream's accurate, then he's very good with handling melons if you know what I mean."

"Oh God, why would you tell me that Sook?" Lorelai whined, desperately trying to erase the mental image from her mind. "I'm never gonna look at a cantaloupe the same way again."

"Same goes for me and zucchini," Sookie snickered, shooting an exaggerated wink in Lorelai's direction.

"So bottom line is the dream doesn't necessarily mean anything," Lorelai said hopefully, returning to the issue at hand.

"Correct," Sookie assured her. "Now if the dream was about someone like Christopher I could probably give you a more Freudian-style analysis, but I think it's safe to assume it's just your imagination going into overdrive. My advice? Go and find a good looking, eligible bachelor and work your womanly charm on him."

"Yeah, 'cos it's that easy," Lorelai grumbled.

"Ah…hello? Would you take a look at yourself? You'll have them lining up around the block. Hell, you wouldn't even need to look far. If you don't want to go to the effort of meeting new people, I'm sure Damon from KC's would be a willing participant and he's not bad to look at. Or there's always Luke," she suggested boldly.

"Luke? Why would you think I'd want to sleep with Luke?" Lorelai asked too quickly, her cheeks tinging with the faintest shade of red.

"You and every other single female in this town," Sookie said casually. "Face it, the man's hot. That ass alone has the power to bring lesser women to their knees. Besides, golden retrievers need love too you know," she added with a devilish grin. Cocking her head to the side, she mused, "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if Luke was a bit of a dark horse between the sheets. I could totally picture him as the strong, silent type."

"I'm not going to sleep with Luke, Sookie," Lorelai said firmly, although the sous chef suspected Lorelai may have uttered the words primarily to convince herself.

"Fine, suit yourself. But don't come crying to me when you're wound up tighter than a two dollar watch," Sookie added, pointing a stern finger at Lorelai. "Mark my words; those dreams will only become more frequent if you do."

-o-

Lorelai had dialed his number and hastily hung up three times before finally working up the nerve to let the call ring through at the other end.

The gravelly voice greeted her after the second ring, and it was only then she realized she hadn't prepared anything to say. Normally, words were her forte, but right in this moment, they eluded her.

Swallowing to clear the lump that had formed in her throat, Lorelai heard herself stammer, "Lincoln? Hi, it's…er…Lorelai Gilmore. Rory's mom."

She hadn't initially intended to call him. When he'd offered her his number after the school's Father's Day festivities, she'd politely declined, not even bothering to offer up a weak excuse as to why she wasn't dating. Undeterred, he'd thrust the business card toward her, urging her to call if she ever changed her mind. Conscious of Luke and Rory watching her from afar, she'd yielded and accepted the proffered card so as not to cause a scene, but it had sat forgotten in her wallet for over a month. Until now.

Lincoln appeared genuinely pleased to hear from her, and Lorelai was grateful that he took charge of the conversation. She barely had to string two words together before they agreed to meet for a late lunch the following day. A date. A lunch date – so it barely counted – but a date nonetheless. The thought made Lorelai's palms sweaty with trepidation.

It had been well over a year since she'd been out on a date, and if past experience was anything to go by, the lunch was bound to be about as much fun as a root canal. Granted, Lincoln was aware Lorelai was a single mother and he hadn't run for the hills, so he was already one step ahead of most of the men she'd dated. In most instances, she'd watch her date's eyes cloud with panic the moment she mentioned she had a pre-teen daughter at home. Then they'd do the math. Daughter in elementary school? _That's right, I was 16 when I had her._ _Judge away._

If the news didn't make them bolt mid-meal, then it sure as hell did afterwards. The stayers would try their luck inviting her back to their place, but no matter how the evening progressed, all the dates finished the same way: with the promise of a call that inevitably never came.

Unsurprisingly, Lorelai had all but given up on the dating circuit, which could be partially to blame for her current predicament. Those damn dreams kept haunting her sleep.

After her conversation with Sookie, Lorelai had brushed off the initial dream as little more than the delusions of a 26-year-old woman that hadn't gotten laid in over a year. She'd been spending a lot of time with Luke of late, so she reasoned it was perfectly understandable that he'd played a starring role. The dream wasn't about him per se; it was simply her subconscious playing out her frustrations and happening to randomly select Luke as a lead character because he was fresh in her mind.

At first, Sookie's comment about the fantasy men in her dreams always being someone she was attracted to had thrown Lorelai, but when her friend went on to acknowledge Luke's blatant good looks and appeal to any self-respecting woman with a heartbeat, she reasoned it was nothing to worry about. Anyone could see Luke was far from being the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

The problem was the dream wasn't just a one-off; Lorelai had experienced a further two of them on separate occasions. The more recent dreams weren't exactly the same as the first, but each one featured her and a certain diner owner between the sheets, prompting her to wake night after night, panting as her heart raced wildly.

She'd had to take action. It was bad enough that she was thinking about her friend in that way, but on top of that, it made it damn near impossible to look him in the eye. She hadn't been to the diner in days and the coffee withdrawals were beginning to get to her. No one else made coffee the way he did.

Yes, it was time to get back on the horse again, Lorelai thought, grimacing at her choice of expression. She certainly wasn't pinning her hopes on the lunch with Lincoln being a resounding success, but she had to start somewhere. If all went well, one thing led to another, and she found herself pursuing a second date and eventually some time alone with him, then so be it. If the date failed spectacularly, then she was no worse off than at present.

After more than 10 wardrobe changes and plenty of agonizing over the perfect shoes, Lorelai finally decided on an outfit to wear to lunch. As they were meeting mid-work day, she donned a silky blue blouse and a gray, pin-striped skirt that hugged her curves just so. It was too hot to wear the matching blazer, but nonetheless, the outfit struck the right balance between professional and alluring.

She arrived at the restaurant just after 1.30pm, anxiously scanning the crowded collection of tables for Lincoln's muscular frame. It didn't take long to spot him, the man speaking animatedly to a nearby waitress.

Making her way toward the table, Lorelai gave Lincoln a quick wave to acknowledge her presence, prompting the waitress to disappear without a word.

"Hi," she breathed, accepting his bold kiss on the cheek in greeting before taking a seat.

"Hi, glad you could make it," Lincoln replied smoothly. "You look magnificent," he added, giving her a not-so-subtle once-over.

"Oh…thanks," Lorelai murmured, offering him a fleeting smile. "It's nice to see you again."

They made polite small talk for a few minutes before Lincoln asked, "So, can I get you a drink to start?"

"Please. That sounds great," Lorelai affirmed, taking a moment to peruse the drinks menu as Lincoln flagged down the waitress. The blonde took down his order on her notepad, turning her attention to Lorelai shortly after.

"And you ma'am?"

"I'll take a gin martini thanks," Lorelai replied, closing the drinks menu and lowering it to the table.

"Are you sure about that?" She heard Lincoln ask. "Because I thought we could have the salmon. Maybe a wine would be a better choice. Do you have any nice, light-bodied reds?" he inquired, turning his attention back to the waitress without waiting to receive a response from Lorelai.

"We've got a lovely Oregon pinot noir in at the moment which complements our salmon dish nicely."

"That sounds perfect," Lincoln confirmed. "We'll take a glass of that instead. And I guess we may as well order our meals while you're here. So the salmon for my friend please and I'll have the eye fillet. And perhaps a charcuterie platter to share for entrée."

To say Lorelai was shocked was an understatement, and she found herself reminded of her compulsory sojourns to the country club during her teenage years, when her mother would order some extravagant dish on her behalf without so much as a word of consultation.

"I hope you don't mind me taking the liberty of ordering for both of us," Lincoln acknowledged after the waitress departed. "I come here quite a bit so I know what's good."

"Oh, right…no problem," Lorelai nodded, his words doing nothing to appease the feeling of agitation in the pit of her stomach. _Off to a flying start_ , she thought grimly.

"So, tell me: why the phone call out of the blue Ms Gilmore? I mean, I'm all for it but when I didn't hear from you after the Father's Day activities at the school, I assumed you either weren't interested or some other guy must have beaten me to the punch."

"Oh, well, you know how it is. Brad Pitt has been practically begging to take me out for months now so I thought I'd give him a fighting chance," Lorelai said with feigned nonchalance.

"How'd that work out for you?"

"Sadly, it wasn't meant to be," she sighed. "I've relinquished him to Gwyneth's clutches."

"Ah, that's too bad. I must say it worked out well for me though," Lincoln smirked.

"Brad might tell you otherwise," she countered with a wink.

Lorelai began to relax as the conversation continued, Lincoln's chatty nature ensuring the dialogue flowed with few lulls in between. They talked about their work, their favorite activities and the towns they lived in, Lincoln informing her he hailed from nearby Litchfield.

"So how's your little man going? I haven't crossed paths with him in the school yard for a few weeks." Lorelai questioned as she fought to swallow another bite of salmon. The dish would never have been something she'd selected for herself if given the choice.

"Connor was great last time I checked, thanks. Seems to be keeping out of mischief."

"Oh that's good. Rory mentioned he's a really bright kid. I hear he gave her a run for her money on the grade five math test last week," she added with a smile.

"Oh, really? I haven't spoken to him for almost a fortnight. My ex tries to palm him off to me every second weekend so I guess I'll be hearing from her over the next day or so." His pointed eye roll didn't escape Lorelai's notice and she had to work hard to stop a frown from creasing her forehead at his words.

"So you..ah…you and Connor's mom don't get along so well?"

"That's putting it mildly. Messy divorce. Don't get me wrong, we can hold a conversation when we need to, but we drive each other mental. She's constantly asking me to have Connor stay over at my place or to take him to a ball game or whatever. It's like she expects me to just drop everything to spend time with him. Never mind the fact that I might have plans already. I mean, the kid's great and all but having him around really limits what you can do on a weekend. It's not like I can go out and hit a nice bar if he's staying over, you know? It's much easier if he just stays with his mom."

"Yeah, right," Lorelai murmured, doing her best to hold her tongue. "Kids sure can make it tricky."

"Oh, of course, you'd know better than most people. I honestly don't know how you do the whole single parent thing. You must kill for some kid-free time."

"Well, it's not without its challenges but Rory's worth all the hard yards. I can't imagine life without her," Lorelai answered truthfully. "And you know, if I really need 20 minutes to myself, I just stick her in the washing machine for a quick spin cycle," she quipped dryly. "The ride seems to keep her entertained and it cuts out the need for bath time later."

Unimpressed with the turn the conversation had taken and recognizing that Lincoln bore more similarities to Christopher than she'd like to admit, Lorelai cast her eyes down at the table briefly, unenthusiastically pushing lettuce leaves around her plate. Lorelai Gilmore didn't make friends with salad.

Seemingly unaffected, Lincoln continued to chatter on amicably, his words barely registering in Lorelai's mind.

Shifting her gaze back across the table, Lorelai took note of Lincoln's overly-moussed hair and the way his shirt clung to the muscles of his chest and arms, flaunting his carefully sculpted figure. It should have enticed her, but in actual fact, it only served to highlight the air of vanity surrounding her date. The clearly displayed brand name on his expensive fitted shirt suggested the item had been purchased solely as a status symbol. All in all, it came across as… _superficial_ , Lorelai concluded.

She couldn't help but let her thoughts drift to Luke as Lincoln rambled on about his latest exercise regime. It was Luke's demeanor that made his physique more appealing. No need for brand names or expensive hair products; no need to impress others; and no awareness of how a cotton t-shirt or flannel stretched taut over rippling back muscles could turn any hot-blooded female into a bumbling mess. The pure lack of arrogance was what made him all the more desirable. Yes, she could now openly admit to herself that she found Luke attractive; her and every other woman within a 20km radius of Stars Hollow. Who was she to pass up a good ogling session when it presented itself?

Turning her attention back to Lincoln, Lorelai murmured the occasional well-placed 'hmm,' 'right' and 'absolutely' in response to the recount of his most recent gym session. Apparently, Lincoln considered himself quite the gym junkie. It was when he began detailing his daily protein intake that Lorelai commenced counting down the seconds until she could leave to collect Rory from school.

She could have hugged the waitress when she finally returned to the table some 15 minutes later, offering them a dessert menu which Lorelai gratefully accepted. If nothing else, a slice of pie or some kind of chocolate monstrosity would redeem the disaster of a date, albeit slightly.

Unfortunately, Lincoln didn't appear to hold the same sentiments. No sooner had the waitress left the table than he leaned forward, resting his hand atop the menu and effectively shielding the dessert selections from view. Pushing the menu down onto the table, he then took hold of Lorelai's hand and said in a low voice, "If you're interested, I have another kind of dessert in mind. What do you say we finish up here and take this somewhere a little more private?"

Before Lorelai had a chance to respond, Lincoln dug his free hand into his right pocket, withdrawing a hotel key and placing it on the table in front of her invitingly, his eyes lingering on her chest.

 _Was he serious? Hell hath no fury like a Gilmore deprived of dessert._

Dumbfounded, Lorelai blinked repeatedly before slowly sliding the swipe key back toward him and uttering, "Uh…I don't think that's such a great idea Lincoln. You know, I've actually got to be getting back to the school to collect Rory soon."

 _A pre-booked hotel room? How easy did he think she was?_

"School's not out for another hour yet," he replied leadingly, his voice lowering an octave. "That's plenty of time for me to make it worth your while. I'm gonna level with you here; I'm looking for something no strings attached, and I think it could be a mutually beneficial arrangement. If the hotel room isn't your style, I wouldn't say no to something a little more adventurous. So why don't you tell me what works for you and we can make it happen? A bathroom or a hallway is as good as anywhere as far as I'm concerned."

Pushing her chair backwards, Lorelai grappled for her handbag and hoisted it over her shoulder, frowning as she said, "You know what Lincoln? You better make that dessert for one."

Pulling a few bills from her purse, she tossed them onto the table, making eye contact with her date just long enough to say, "Thanks for lunch. I'll pick up my _dessert_ elsewhere." Her shoulders pulled back, she turned on her heel and stormed out.

-o-

"So let me get this straight," Sookie drawled, her brow furrowed in confusion as she settled her gaze on Lorelai and continued to stir her béchamel sauce methodically. "We both agreed you needed to get laid to put a stop to those dreams of yours."

"Yes," Lorelai affirmed with a sigh, dropping her elbows onto the inn's kitchen counter and burying her face in her hands.

"You found a guy that was interested, went out on a date with him and he told you in no uncertain terms he wanted to sleep with you, no strings attached."

"Yes."

"You got offended and stormed off because he offered to sleep with you, despite the fact that's exactly what you set out to achieve in the first place."

"I got offended and stormed off because he was a _jackass_ Sook. He booked a hotel room before we'd even had so much as a conversation or a drink. He offered me a quickie in a freakin' _hallway_ for God's sake."

"Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures," Sookie snorted.

Lorelai merely shot her friend a reproving glare, refusing to take the bait. "I at least thought we'd make it through a couple of dates before he tried the hard sell. Honestly, I don't think he could have picked a cheesier pick-up line. It was beyond cringe worthy."

"So lunch was a total flop, huh?"

"That's the understatement of the century. Can you believe he ordered for me? I didn't even get to see the lunch menu. Not that it would have helped if I did; he took the liberty of changing my drink order after I'd already told the waitress what I wanted. What do I look like? Donna Reed?"

"Oh honey, he sounds like a real jerk."

Lorelai simply groaned. "I can't believe I'll have to face him at Rory's school. It's going to be _so_ awkward."

"Well it sounds like he's a master at avoiding Dad duty so with any luck, he'll manage to get out of school drop-offs for the rest of the year."

"Rest of the decade would be better if he could wrangle it. For the record, I think he's got a good shot at taking out the award for deadbeat dad of the year."

"Wow, who would have thought Christopher would have some stiff competition?" Sookie scoffed. "So what are you going to do?" she asked, pulling the saucepan from the stove top and switching off the heat as she moved to an open stretch of bench space.

That, right there, was the million dollar question, Lorelai thought. What _was_ she going to do? Before she had the opportunity to formulate a response Mia burst through the doors to the kitchen, Rory tailing close behind. Her pre-teen daughter's presence quickly put an end to their conversation.

"Here's trouble," Lorelai quipped, offering Rory a broad smile as she walked over to drop a kiss against her forehead. "What's up sweet cheeks?"

"Mia just showed me how to fold a hospital corner!" Rory explained enthusiastically.

"Wow, you really know how to please a crowd Mia," Lorelai smirked.

"My handy little helper here loves to learn the tricks of the trade, don't you sweetheart?" Mia clucked good-naturedly, patting Rory on the head. "We had to end the tutorial early when we saw what time it was. We completely forgot your shift finished at six."

"Well time flies when you're having fun. Hate to disappoint you kid, but tonight's evening activities don't involve making beds. You ready to skedaddle?"

Rory nodded, fastening the zips on her school bag as she prepared to leave the inn. "Can we go to the diner on the way home Mom?"

"Oh, not tonight honey. Maybe another time," Lorelai hastily replied, busying herself with drawing her car keys from her handbag and waving as Mia departed the kitchen to return to the front desk.

"But you've been saying that all week and we haven't seen Luke since our sleepover at Mia's house on Saturday," Rory pouted. "We never go that long without going to the diner and I want to tell him that I learnt some new spelling words at school today. Don't you want some of his coffee?"

Lorelai immediately felt Sookie's scrutinizing stare boring into her at the mention of their stay at Mia's house and her uncharacteristic avoidance of the diner.

When Lorelai refused to make eye contact, Sookie asked innocently, "Oh, you guys had a sleepover with Luke, huh Rory? That sounds like fun."

"Uh-huh. Luke's the best. We built a magic carpet and flew to Morocco and he told Mom and I a really good fairytale before bedtime. Then we all fell asleep on the magic carpet."

"Sounds like quite an evening sweetie," Sookie replied emphatically, her eyebrow arched accusingly in Lorelai's direction and a slight smile playing on her lips. "Your mom must have forgotten to mention it."

"Luke was a big help when the power went out, wasn't he Rory? He brought some camp lanterns around for us," Lorelai attempted to explain casually.

"Yep, I wasn't even afraid of the dark when he was there."

"Wow, your mom will have to tell me all about it later," Sookie said pointedly, struggling to hide her obvious glee. "That's too bad that she doesn't feel like a coffee from the diner. I wonder why that could be?"

Shooting her friend a withering stare, Lorelai said, "Maybe the quality of the coffee at the inn has finally picked up so I don't need to go to _Luke's_ as often."

"Not likely. We both know coffee's not gonna score me a Michelin star honey," Sookie giggled, brandishing one hand in the air dismissively as the two Gilmores made their way toward the exit.

"We'll see you later Sook."

"Yeah, you girls have a good night. Oh, and Lorelai?" she added boldly, her lips snaking up at the corners. "Sweet dreams honey."

-o-

It didn't make any sense.

Luke had racked his brain trying to determine what he'd done; what he'd said to upset or offend her. It had been over a week since the power outage and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Lorelai at the diner. At first, he simply assumed she was busy and trusted he'd see her dark curls and luminous smile in the doorway within a day or two. After all, she could only go without his coffee for so long.

As the week ticked by, he'd started to question whether something was wrong. His initial thought was that she or Rory might be sick, but he'd overheard Babette telling Miss Patty that she'd chatted to them briefly in their front yard as they flew out the door to school, so that theory seemed unlikely.

Lorelai was earning a better wage now that she was in the role of Assistant Manager at the Inn, so he assumed it wasn't a lack of funds that was keeping her away. All in all, the most likely explanation was that he'd done something to upset her, and his suspicions had been as good as confirmed when he'd tried to strike up a conversation with her in the town square on Friday morning.

Lorelai had been dropping Rory off at school for the day and Luke had found himself compelled to leave the diner when he saw her Jeep pull up outside the school gate. He'd made a weak excuse to Caesar about needing to swing by Doose's Market, and rushed down the steps, feigning surprise when he spotted her emerging from the school building after waving goodbye to Rory at her classroom door.

The panic that flitted across her face when she'd caught sight of him had been unmistakable, and he couldn't help but notice her inability to sustain eye contact. He'd tried to ask if she was okay and mentioned that he hadn't seen her in a while, but it appeared she couldn't get away fast enough.

She'd apologized for not being able to stop and chat, then hastily made her way to her Jeep, babbling something about needing to get to work early, her eyes darting around wildly. Her demeanor had none of its usual lightheartedness and Luke had simply stood there as she drove off, bewildered by her unusual reaction toward him.

As expected following the odd exchange, she hadn't shown up at the diner that evening, nor made an appearance over the weekend. By Tuesday morning, Luke was at his wit's end. He missed her – incessant chatter, coffee addiction, pain-in-the-ass comments and all. And he missed Rory. Missed her girlish giggle, her quiet disposition and her enthusiastic recounts of what she'd learnt at school.

Resigned to the fact the situation wasn't going to improve unless he took action, Luke resolved that one way or another, he'd get to the bottom of Lorelai's strange behavior by the end of the day.

He waited for the post-lunch lull to roll around, but when it never came, he found himself getting antsy. Of course the diner would be packed on the one day he really needed some time out. Checking his watch, he picked up the phone and dialed, hearing the Caesar's cheery greeting after the third ring.

"Hey Caesar, it's Luke," he explained quickly.

"Hey boss, what can I do for you?"

"I know you're not meant to start until later, but I don't suppose there's any chance of you getting here sooner? Like ASAP? I've got to head out for a while and it's still pretty busy so Aaron will need a hand with the grill."

"Sure thing, I can be there in 20 minutes," Caesar affirmed.

"That'd be great, thanks. I'll throw something extra on top of your pay this week for your trouble."

"Thanks Luke, I'll see you soon."

Luke found himself checking his watch distractedly every two minutes as he delivered orders to customers and distributed coffee refills. The second he heard the bells ring to signal Caesar's presence, he grabbed his toolbox and began to make his way out the door, offering the teenager a quick thanks and a wave as he departed.

Arriving at the Independence Inn, he immediately ran into Mia in the foyer, accepting her affectionate hug and feeling a twinge of guilt for not making the effort to see her more often.

"Lucas! It's so nice to see you. What brings you by?"

"I thought I'd drop in to fix those banisters you mentioned a little while back and see if you needed anything else taken care of around the place," he explained, gesturing to the toolbox he'd placed on the floor beside him.

"Oh you didn't need to do that," Mia fussed. "I don't expect you to do those things, especially in the middle of your work day. It's very kind of you to offer but we can always get a tradesperson out to fix them."

"Ah well, the diner was quiet," he lied with a shrug of his shoulders. "So anything else other than the banister?"

"Well the window in room 14 seems to be stuck shut and the bathroom tap in room three could do with a replacement washer if you're sure it's not going to put you out."

"No problem, leave it with me," he grunted, nodding his head. He tried not to make it obvious that he was scanning the room out of the corner of his eye for any sign of Lorelai.

"Thanks Lucas. It's very thoughtful of you to stop by. Come and find me if you need me for anything."

As Luke bent to pick up the toolbox, Mia leaned in toward his ear, resting her palm against his shoulder as she murmured, "She's in the office," before continuing on her way.

Luke made quick work of the jobs on his to-do list before casually strolling toward the office. He found Lorelai head-down at the desk, poring over some papers intently. Rapping his knuckles lightly against the door frame to signal his presence, he watched as her head snapped up, her glasses perched on her nose, framing the blue of her eyes.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Luke," she said in a surprised tone, and he registered the same semblance of panic that had seemed to engulf her when their paths had crossed at the school the week before. "What are you doing here?"

"Stopped by to fix a few bits and pieces for Mia."

"Right, of course," she acknowledged, quickly busying herself with shuffling papers and looking anywhere but directly at him.

"I haven't seen you around much lately," he said leadingly, his voice calm rather than accusing. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," she confirmed, turning to rustle through the desk drawer. "I've just been busy," she added vaguely. "You know how it is."

"Yeah," he grunted, his piercing stare seemingly passing right through her. He lowered his toolbox to the floor and waited for her to speak. When no words came and she refrained from peering up from the drawer, Luke finally murmured, "You won't look at me."

Her hands froze and he saw her shoulders stiffen before she finally lifted her eyes to meet his.

"What? Of course I will," she said nonchalantly, but the hint of a tremor in her voice was undeniable.

"Have I done something to upset you?"

"You mean other than refusing to introduce Danish Week at the diner in favor of Danish Day?" Her signature sarcasm shone through as she desperately tried to deter him from digging too deep.

"Please don't joke Lorelai," he sighed wearily. "Not today. Not now. Have I done something to upset you?"

"Not at all Luke," she resigned softly. "Everything's good. We're good. I'm sorry if it seems like I haven't been around much lately but it's nothing to do with you."

Truth be told, she couldn't stand to be in the same room as him; not with the spate of dreams still occurring night after night.

She rose from her chair and made her way around to the front of the desk, intent on making a getaway under the pretense of needing to get back to work. She regretted the movement as soon as she made it, conscious that there was no longer a protective barrier between them and the only way out of the room would involve brushing past him.

"I should really get back to work," she said quietly, desperate to put some distance between them.

"Tell me what's wrong," he urged, holding his position just inside the doorway. If she wanted to leave, he wouldn't stop her but she'd need to pass him to do so.

"Nothing's wrong Luke. I told you; I've been busy."

"I don't believe you. You could be heading up NASA and you'd still make time for coffee," Luke accused. "Something's wrong and I want to fix it."

"Everything's fine, Luke. I've just been picking up my coffee at the inn each day because my workload's been really full on. Seriously, there's nothing to worry about," she said dismissively.

He knew she was lying. He always knew.

"Dammit Lorelai!" he exploded, frustration getting the better of him. He threw one hand up in the air in exasperation, swiftly bringing it back down with the intention of grasping her arm and pleading with her for an explanation. He saw her visibly recoil at his outstretched hand, her eyes wide and fearful.

"You think I would _hit_ you?" he asked incredulously, misreading her reaction and immediately withdrawing his hand to show he meant no harm.

"Luke, no, I don't; That's not…" she trailed off, her eyes silently begging him to understand and to allow her to escape. "You've got it all wrong."

"Wow, you really don't trust me," he sighed, and the look of defeat in his eyes tore her heart to shreds, forcing her to cast her gaze down to the floor. The silence was palpable and it seemed to drag on for an eternity.

"I don't trust _me_ ," she finally whispered, her words barely audible.

His breath caught in his chest at her declaration, and he hesitantly shifted his gaze to probe her eyes for more insight into what was running through her mind.

"Lorelai…" The warmth and huskiness in his tone as he ground out her name made her melt, and she desperately tried to push down the flood of emotions that rose up inside her. Confusion; uncertainty; desire; ambiguity; fear and about a hundred others she couldn't name.

When he took the tiniest of steps closer to her, all logic seemed to fly out the window.

"Don't," she pleaded, holding one hand up to halt his advancement. "Please don't, I'm begging you."

Luke opened and closed his mouth several times, trying and failing to find the right words to say. He settled for observing her closely, taking in the worry lines creasing her forehead and the air of anguish that surrounded her.

Her resolve finally snapping under his scrutinizing stare, she cried distraughtly, "You're in my head, dammit! Okay? Are you happy now?"

Lorelai dropped her forehead into her hands, her tone panic-stricken. "You're in my head _all_ _the_ _time_ and it's driving me crazy. You're there when I wake up; you're there when I go to work; you're there when I freakin' _sleep_ and on top of all that, you're here right now. You're _everywhere_. That's why I can't look at you, Luke. It's killing me to look at you because you're _always_ _there_ and you're my best friend and I don't know how to make it stop! I need you to get out of my head, okay? I can't take it anymore."

Her raised tone had taken on an element of hysteria and Luke edged the door closed behind him, conscious of not alerting the other staff to their exchange.

He'd seen Lorelai upset before, but never so out of control. She usually masked her feelings with an impenetrable shield, so her outburst both surprised and alarmed him.

"Lorelai…"

"Don't, please."

"Lorelai…" he tried again, her name slipping from his tongue like silk.

"Please don't say my name," she pleaded, her fingers clawing at her hair like a caged animal as she squeezed her eyes shut tight. "It's too much; it's too much Luke," she stressed, a sob escaping her lips.

He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cradle her to his chest, but Luke feared his touch would distress her further.

Finally, the penny had dropped. Finally, he understood her need to avoid him. He'd been there.

His heart pounding wildly, Luke stayed silent for a few moments before murmuring softly, "It gets easier."

Lorelai didn't reply, but the sound of her breath catching in her throat told him she was listening.

"That feeling – whatever it is…I don't know – it's like it will drive you over the edge; like you'll never feel normal again or be able to process another thought because it's so all-consuming. But it gets easier. Trust me, I know."

Lorelai hiccuped, her eyes focused on the floor.

"I thought I would go crazy when it hit me," he continued with a humorless chuckle. "It's like this kind of purgatory because you're stuck somewhere between heaven and hell and somehow it's too much and not enough all at the same time."

He knew his words had struck a chord with her because her tightly corded fingers had relaxed slightly and her breathing was slowly beginning to even out.

"And then one day, you learn to deal with it, partly because you have to. Mainly because you can't bear the thought of not seeing that person again. You figure you'll go crazy either way so you might as well just roll with it. And all the while, that feeling's there in the back of your mind – God knows, it's always there – but it's manageable, and some days, you can almost get through the whole day without it sneaking up on you."

Lorelai continued to stay silent as she absorbed his softly spoken words, finally lifting her chin to look at him, her cheeks streaked with tear stains.

Holding her gaze, Luke took one cautious step toward her, carefully reaching out one hand to remove her glasses from her face.

"There, now I can see you," he whispered gently. He lowered his hand to cup her cheek and breathed an inaudible sigh of relief when she didn't flinch at his touch, their eyes still locked on one another.

"What are you saying Luke?" she asked shakily.

"I'm saying you've been in my head for a really long time."

Not a moment later, he saw the emotion disappear from her eyes, her trademark suit of armor fast restoring as she inched away from his hand and cleared her throat.

"This isn't a good idea," she stated firmly, her gaze dropping once again. "I'm not good at this. You don't know how messed up I am Luke. If you did, _really_ did, you wouldn't want this. You wouldn't want me. You don't know me."

His voice was low and gravelly when he finally breached the silence hanging heavily between them, leaving no room for disagreement.

"I know that you prefer Red Vines over Twizzlers despite it making no sense whatsoever considering they're the _exact same thing_ ," he began softly.

"I know that you can recite every line of _Casablanca_ word for word but you'll never ever tire of watching it. I know that you add an extra teaspoon of sugar to your coffee when you think I'm not watching, and that for God knows what reason, you seem to be under the illusion your oven is a sock dryer. I know that you get cranky when you haven't eaten in over two hours and that a goddamn Pop-Tart will restore you to your usual pain-in-the-ass self in less than 30 seconds," he continued, his voice gradually increasing in volume as he became more incensed.

"I know that you'd choose to put Rory's needs before your own even if it meant not eating for a week. I know that you'd lay down your life for your daughter without a second thought and that you constantly question whether you're good enough for her, even though you're without a doubt the best mother I have ever set eyes on. I know that you're glad you took Rory and left your parents' house, but there's nothing you regret more than your relationship with them. I know that you desperately want your parents' approval even though they don't deserve to hold that power over you. I know that you continually wonder how your daughter got so smart, and that you don't see it's entirely because of you. You're so unbelievably intelligent Lorelai. I know that the reason so many goddamn words come out of your mouth on a daily basis is only partially because you're chatty and partially because it helps you distract people from seeing the real you. I know that you desperately want the whole package – marriage, kids, the works – but the prospect of getting close to someone and letting your guard down terrifies you to your core. Dammit Lorelai!" he exclaimed, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. "Can't you see I know you? I know the little things and the big things and the good things and the bad things and I'm still standing here okay? I'm still here. All I'm asking for is a chance."

His chest rose and fell rapidly, the pulsing vein in his temple clearly visible.

"Luke…" Lorelai started, but she stopped abruptly when the words didn't come.

"You don't have to answer right away," he added quietly, his breath still coming in gasps as he met her perplexed gaze. "But I'm petrified that if you walk away now, your walls will go straight back up and there'll be no turning back from that. Please don't shut me out."

They both stood lost in their thoughts, their breathing the only audible sound in the small office.

"I can't. I mean, I don't…" she choked out, unable to express the million thoughts swirling around her head.

"Just one chance Lorelai," he finally whispered, and the sound of her name falling from his lips proved to be her undoing. He saw the resolve in her eyes weaken momentarily, and he seized the opportunity to brush his lips against hers, one hand coming to rest behind her neck and the other snaking around her waist. He pulled away before she had a chance to respond, her lips parting in a soft 'o' and her eyes littered with shock.

"I know this is a lot to take in, but at least you know where I stand," he said frankly. "Maybe we can talk about this? Later, when you've had time to think. Can you meet me at the diner before work tomorrow? You start at 11 on Wednesdays right? We'll find some place quiet to talk in the morning."

Lorelai simply nodded.

"You'll come? You promise? You'll definitely be there? Even if it's a no? You won't freak out on me?"

Lorelai nodded, still looking dazed.

"Okay," he whispered, running one over his baseball cap and wondering how the hell he'd managed to work up the courage to do what he'd just done. "Tomorrow then," he affirmed, squeezing her hand in his.

Picking up his toolbox and turning on his heel, Luke felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders, his insides burning with both astonishment and elation. He walked out of the Independence Inn feeling relieved that regardless of whether Lorelai's verdict fell in his favor, he could at least bank on having an answer one way or the other the following morning.

What he didn't bank on was her not showing at all.

When the clock struck 11 and her raven hair and sparkling blue eyes hadn't graced his doorstep, Luke felt the full force of his despair knock the wind from his chest.

Maybe she would succeed in driving him completely crazy this time.

-o-


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note:** Hello lovely people. Well, let me start off by apologizing for leaving you hanging at the end of the last chapter...I couldn't resist (mean, I know!) Hopefully the fluff quota in this chapter will allow you to forgive me ;)

I have loved hearing your theories about why Lorelai didn't show, so thank you for the keen interest and for embracing this story. All will be revealed in this chapter, I promise!

Look forward to hearing your thoughts x

-o-

He hated that she hadn't showed.

Hated that he'd let himself get his hopes up. Hated that his eyes darted to the doorway hopefully every time the bells signaled a new customer. Hated that he cared.

Most of all, he hated that he inevitably found himself making excuses for her absence; wanting to believe there had been some kind of hiccup that prevented her from coming. _Maybe she got called into work early. Maybe she overslept. Maybe she got the day mixed up._

And maybe pigs might fly.

What added insult to injury was that she hadn't bothered to call. If Luke really pushed past his desire to see the best in her, he could imagine her too wired to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, her head flooding with panic as she decided to pile Rory in the car and set off on a spontaneous road trip. How very Lorelai to take flight when someone dared to get too close.

He chastised himself for thinking it might be different. He'd honestly believed she'd stick to her word and show up. After all, Lorelai Gilmore wasn't one to make promises lightly.

As the day dragged on, he felt the suffocating torrent of anguish ensnare his chest in a vice grip, the reality of her rejection paralyzing him; arresting his every thought.

Somewhere between serving Mrs. Cassini a meat patty burned within an inch of its life and threatening to throw Kirk out on the pavement after he dared to ask for the contents of his plate to be grouped by color, it occurred to Luke that perhaps Lorelai was ill or had been in some kind of accident. At first, he brushed the thought off as yet another one of his delusions, but as the minutes ticked by, the flurry of anxiety in his gut grew tenfold until he found himself convinced that something must be wrong. It was rare – not unheard of, but rare – for her to break a promise. Suddenly, the tightness in his chest switched from defeat to unmitigated worry and he found himself compelled to check on her. To make sure she was okay.

Picking up the phone, he dialed the Independence Inn hastily. Her shift wasn't due to finish until 7.30pm, so she still had just under an hour left to go.

He didn't recognize the staff member that answered and the man did nothing to set his mind at ease. She hadn't gone in today. Had called in early to have her shift replaced. He couldn't tell Luke why. Didn't know where she was or when she'd be back in. Suggested Luke call back in the morning.

Feeling a rare wave of panic wash over him, Luke slammed down the receiver and raced for the door, informing the handful of customers the diner was now closed. He hurriedly called to Gypsy who was seated at the counter that pie was on the house for all customers and to lock the door behind her when she left. In all honesty, he couldn't have cared less if someone raided the till or trashed the place. He had to get to her.

He dove for the cabin of the ancient truck, grinding the gears in his haste to get to her. Inching his foot further down on the gas pedal, Luke's heart skipped in his chest when he saw Lorelai's Jeep parked out the front of the house. He flew from the driver's door as soon as he reached the front lawn, took the porch steps two at a time and pounded on the front door, desperate to know whether she was okay.

When she opened the door a few moments later, Luke was taken aback by her appearance. She wore baggy sweats, her eyes rimmed with black circles and her hair tied up in a messy bun. It looked like she hadn't slept a wink since he'd last seen her.

"Luke!" she gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth in shock. "Oh my god, I didn't call. Oh god."

"Are you okay?" he asked desperately, scanning her frame for any obvious signs of injury.

She simply stared at him in shock, silently berating herself for not picking up the phone. "I'm so sorry."

"Lorelai, are you okay?" He pressed urgently.

"What? I mean yes. I'm fine. Rory's not well."

"Rory's sick?" he asked worriedly. "Where is she? Is she okay?"

He didn't wait for an answer or an invitation before he strode past her into the foyer. When he didn't see the little girl in the lounge room, he hurried toward the kitchen impulsively, only coming to a stop when he reached her bedroom doorway and saw Rory fast asleep in bed, her chest rising and falling gently with each breath.

It took a moment for Lorelai to catch up to him, Luke breathing a sigh of relief after seeing Rory tucked up safely.

"Is she okay?" he asked again. "What's wrong?"

"She'll be fine. Looks like it's just chicken pox."

Luke felt his breathing begin to return to its normal rate at her words, quickly registering his inappropriate behavior in entering her home uninvited.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in," he apologized, glancing around the kitchen. "I just had to see her with my own eyes."

Lorelai nodded. "No big deal. I get it," she acknowledged. It didn't matter whether Rory did something as minor as scraping her knee in the school playground; Lorelai always had to set eyes on her daughter to put her mind at ease. She'd thought it was just a parent instinct but apparently it was the same for Luke too.

"About this morning, Luke," she went on. "I'm really sorry. I meant to call; honestly I did. It wasn't until I saw you at the door that I realized I hadn't picked up the phone. My head's been all over the place. Not that it's an excuse but I was up with Rory all night and today has been relentless. I couldn't work out what was wrong with her until the rash finally appeared this afternoon. I'm really sorry for standing you up. God, you must think I'm the biggest bitch."

"Don't worry about it," he grunted, waving his hand dismissively. "Rory's more important. I'm just glad you're both okay."

"I really am sorry," she reiterated, rubbing her temples tiredly.

"Have you had any sleep at all?" Luke asked quietly.

"Sleep? What is this foreign concept you speak of?" she scoffed. At his arched brow she added, "Not since the night before last. But hey, I hear it's overrated anyway. Just ask the CIA's torture unit."

"Geez Lorelai. How are you even functioning?"

"Combination of adrenaline and my good friend Folgers."

"Have you eaten?" he asked concernedly.

"Uh, yeah. I had a Pop-Tart to tide me over an hour or so ago."

"Lorelai," Luke scolded. "You need to eat something healthy."

Ignoring her scrunched up nose, he added, "What have you got in the cupboard? I'll make you dinner."

"Unless you can work your magic with some Cool Whip and packet of Mallomars, then I don't like your chances."

Luke simply groaned and said, "Fine, I'll grab you something from the diner."

"Oh, honestly Luke, no need. Thanks for the offer but I think I'll just snack here and fall into bed. I don't know how much longer I can keep my eyes open now that Rory's finally fallen asleep."

"Okay, well you sit down and I'll make do with what's in the cupboard. Surely you've got _something_ that can pass as dinner food."

Opening the cupboard, Lorelai inspected the largely bare shelves before locating two cans of soup.

"Some of Campbell's finest," she uttered, eyeing the chicken noodle concoctions warily.

"That'll do for now," he grumbled. "Hand it over."

"Can I tempt you in our main for this evening too?" she asked, waving the second can enticingly. "I know your palate isn't used to such fine cuisine but maybe you can try something upmarket just this once?"

She delighted in his eye roll as he held out his hands in acceptance. "I'm building you a vegetable garden tomorrow," he growled. "Sit," he added, waving her toward the table as he searched the cupboards for a suitable pot to heat the soup in.

Bypassing the kitchen table, Lorelai instead sunk down to the floor in the doorway of Rory's room, enabling her to keep an eye on her sleeping daughter. She watched on tiredly as Luke worked his way around the room, marveling at his graceful movements. He always looked so at ease manning a frypan or grill. The kitchen was undoubtedly where he was most comfortable.

"This should feel weird, right?" She uttered quietly, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"Huh?" Luke inquired, stirring the soup as it began to heat.

"After um…yesterday. Getting everything out in the open. This should feel weird, yeah? Us hanging out."

"Oh…did you want me to go?" he asked awkwardly, his shoulders stiffening slightly and his hand stopping mid-stir. "Sorry, I'll get out of your hair. Your soup shouldn't take too long and then I'll leave."

"No! That's not what I meant. I just…I mean…I thought…I don't know. I just thought it would be harder," she confessed. "Weirder."

"But it's not?" he murmured, unsure of where her train of thought was headed.

"Yeah, I guess so. You're here and you're you…the same old Luke. I'm here and I'm me."

"The same old Lorelai," he agreed.

"Watch who you're callin' old Bucko!" she teased, a glint in her eye.

Luke felt the corners of his lips tug upwards in a half smile before turning his attention back to the stove top.

 _Yep, same old Lorelai._

After a few minutes passed in comfortable silence, Lorelai finally broached the topic neither had been willing to bring up since Luke's arrival.

"Luke?" she murmured quietly.

Her tone alone forewarned him of the words that were to follow.

"I know this probably isn't what you want to hear, but right now…I just…with Rory being sick…I can't think…I'm just so exhausted."

"I know," he whispered.

She started to continue but Luke silenced her with a look. "I get that now's not the time Lorelai. Rory has to come first, so let's just focus on getting her better, okay? When things settle down and you get some time to think, maybe we can talk then."

"You don't mind?" she queried.

"What's another week or two? In case you hadn't noticed, that kid's got me wrapped around her little finger. Don't go telling anyone."

"She does, doesn't she?" Lorelai snorted softly. "So how do we do this? You know, act normal. Be friends."

"Simple. You be Lorelai, and I'll be Luke. We've been doing it for years."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he confirmed. "Let's not overcomplicate things."

Removing the saucepan from the burner, Luke switched off the stove and served up bowls for each of them. Lorelai joined him at the table, clinking her spoon against his as she murmured, "bon appétit."

After they finished their meal, Luke rose from the table, collecting their dishes and moving to the sink to commence washing up.

"Oh, let me do that Luke," Lorelai protested, her eyes fast beginning to droop with sleep.

"I've got it. Why don't you head up to bed? You could do with an early night."

"I should really take a shower first," she mumbled tiredly, unable to coax her body from the chair. "I think I'll sleep down here tonight. I know it's irrational because Rory's fever seems to be on the way out, but I just hate the thought of her waking up alone."

"She'll be fine," Luke murmured reassuringly. "Tell you what, why don't you take that shower and I'll keep an eye on her while you're upstairs? That way she'll have someone close by if she stirs."

"That would be great. Thanks Luke," she conceded, too worn out to protest.

Pushing herself up from the chair, Lorelai disappeared upstairs, leaving Luke to finish in the kitchen. Once he was done with the dishes, he walked through all of the downstairs rooms, securing the locks and grimacing each time he found yet another window or door unsecured. _Would she ever heed his pleas for her to lock up?_ The thought of her and Rory alone in an unlocked house never failed to trigger a rush of uneasiness in his gut.

Returning to Rory's bedroom, Luke simply stood in the doorway and watched the little girl sleep for a few minutes before finally taking a seat in the rocking chair at the foot of her bed. Glancing around the room, he studied the motley mix of decorations scattered around the walls and furniture: a curious combination of pink fairy trinkets and Harvard paraphernalia, which hinted at a subtle transition between child and pre-teen. A tower of books sat neatly stacked in one corner, reinforcing that this was very much Rory's domain.

Eventually settling his gaze back on the bed, Luke was surprised to see two bright blue eyes blinking back at him.

"Hey Squirt," he whispered with a shy smile.

"Luke!" she exclaimed excitedly, her voice still hoarse with sleep.

"How you doing?"

"Okay. Much better than before. I don't feel as hot now and I'm not as achy. Just itchy," she grimaced, trying hard to resist the urge to scratch the red spots that marked her skin.

"Try not to scratch 'em kiddo. It'll only make it worse."

"That's what mom said," she sighed, and it was only then that Luke was struck by how incredibly small and fragile she looked tucked up in the bed.

He noticed her begin to rub her legs against the sheet as she sat up, clearly attempting to relieve the persistent itch.

"Hey, hey, easy Rory," he soothed, rising from the chair and resting a hand on the bed to still her movements. "How about you pull your duvet off your legs for a few minutes? Sometimes the heat makes the itching worse."

She followed his instructions, kicking her feet out from beneath the covers. "Give me a minute. I'll see if I can find something to help."

Luke hastily made his way toward the fridge, opening the freezer compartment and locating an ice pack. Wrapping it in a clean dish towel he pulled from one of the drawers, he returned to Rory's bedside, crouching down on the floor beside her.

"This might feel a bit cold to begin with but it should help to stop the itching," he explained, gingerly pressing the ice pack against some of the raised red spots on Rory's calf.

He allowed her to take hold of the cold compress, asking, "how's that?" as he leaned back on his heels.

"Good," she murmured quietly. "Thanks Luke."

"Don't mention it. And hey, move it around to a different spot after a minute or two," he added, prompting Rory to nod.

"So where's Mom? Are you my sitter?" she asked inquisitively.

"She's gone upstairs to have a shower. She should be down soon though. I just dropped by to check you guys were okay."

"I'm glad you're here," Rory replied, a broad smile gracing her lips. "I haven't seen you in forever. I missed you."

"Me too kid," he added gruffly. "You'll have to fill me in. What's new at school?" Luke asked, trying to distract her from the ever-present itch across her body.

"We learnt so many new spelling words last week!"

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Umm…magician. And medicine. And business."

"No way. Surely you can't spell business already. You're only 10," he gasped gruffly, playing along. He was grateful no one was there to see him getting suckered in by the pint-size Gilmore.

"I can, really! B-U-S-I-N-E-S-S," she said slowly, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Wow kid, that's impressive. You are super smart just like your mom."

Rory beamed, her blue eyes sparkling at the praise.

"So…umm…you need anything else?" Luke asked, unsure whether he was playing the carer role right. "A glass of water maybe?"

"No thanks, I'm good now," Rory smiled.

"You want me to grab you a book or something?"

"Would you read to me Luke?" she asked eagerly, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"Ah…sure," he agreed, picking up the book she pointed to, which was lying open on the floor beside her bed. He almost groaned aloud when he saw 'Charlotte Bronte' stamped across the cover. This kid was going to be the death of him.

He rearranged his position on the floor, sitting down and stretching his legs out in front of him before turning his attention to the worn book.

"You want me to recap the page before or just start from here?" he asked, glancing up at Rory.

"There's good," Rory instructed, gesturing to the open page. Catching his eye, she patted the bed beside her and asked innocently, "Aren't you gonna come and lie with me? That's what Mom does. And Mia."

"Oh, er…sure," he agreed awkwardly, carefully untying his boots. He rose to his feet and lowered himself down on his back beside her somewhat rigidly. "Right here okay, Squirt?" he asked, conscious of not taking up too much room on the tiny bed.

"Perfect," Rory affirmed with a bright smile. "Now I can read the words over your shoulder too."

Holding the book out in front of him, Luke began to read, his voice low and soothing. Rory soon snuggled into his side, resting her head in the crook of his arm as she followed the words on the page.

After a few minutes, Luke couldn't stop himself from chancing a glance at the little girl and grumbling, "Ugh, Jane can't honestly believe Mr Rochester wants _Blanche Ingram_ , can she?"

Rory giggled. "Don't worry Luke. Jane and Mr Rochester get married in the end."

"Wait…you've read this already?" he asked incredulously, secretly wondering how she could have stomached the Victorian drama once, let alone more.

"Four times," she affirmed.

"Geez," he grumbled, rolling his eyes and prompting her to giggle one more time. "In that case, you should be telling _me_ the story."

"Keep going," Rory begged. "Please," she added, her lip quivering as she threatened to pull the signature Gilmore pout.

"Alright, alright," he conceded. _Anything but the pout._

He continued to voice the old-style prose, pausing every now and again to ask Rory the background on a character or clarify a point in the story.

Upstairs, Lorelai was willing herself to move from beneath the shower spray, the hot water soothing her tired muscles and lulling her into an even sleepier state. She easily could have passed out right there, but she knew she had to get back downstairs to her daughter.

She'd taken much longer than usual in the shower, physically unable to coerce herself into turning off the taps. Finally, she forced her drooping eyelids open and reached out to halt the spray. Stepping out of the shower, Lorelai slowly patted herself dry, each movement taking twice as long and twice as much effort as normal.

After dressing and drying her hair, she padded down the stairs to relieve Luke of his babysitting duties, desperate to collapse in a heap and not wake for at least eight hours – or a week if she had her way. She just hoped Rory would sleep solidly through the night too.

Lorelai felt her heart melt when she arrived in Rory's bedroom doorway to find her daughter and her best friend cuddled up on the bed together, both peaceful in sleep. Rory's frame looked positively dwarfed when tucked in beside Luke's broad chest and masculine shoulders. Pausing to drink in the touching scene, Lorelai couldn't help but smirk when she saw Rory's battered copy of _Jane Eyre_ resting against Luke's stomach. _Was there anything she couldn't get him to do?_

Unsure of whether to wake Luke or let him continue sleeping, Lorelai settled for drawing the ice pack from against Rory's leg and pulling the bed covers up over them both. Judging by Rory's position nuzzled into his side and her relaxed, even breathing, her daughter clearly felt at ease with Luke beside her. Lorelai couldn't help but smile knowingly when she noticed Rory's open mouth. Poor Luke was almost guaranteed to find a drool patch on his chest come morning. _Like mother, like daughter_ , Lorelai thought. She knew where Rory had gotten that particular trait from.

Retiring to the rocking chair, Lorelai placed a cushion behind her head and drew the throw that was draped over the armrest to her chest, snuggling down into its warmth.

Immediately feeling her muscles loosen in relief, she let out a contented sigh and allowed sleep to overtake her.

-o-

He was gone when she woke up.

She hadn't heard the creak of the bed as he'd risen or the deep roar of the engine as his truck spluttered to life. Even though she'd expected he'd wake earlier than her – as was his nature – it didn't stop the pang of disappointment from striking her. She'd wanted to thank him for his kindness the night before.

After arriving at the diner at around 5am, Luke had set about cleaning the mess from the previous evening. Strictly speaking, he wasn't rostered to work, but he didn't want Aaron saddled with the clean-up when he opened.

Luke had been pleasantly surprised to find some of the townies had attempted to assist with closing the night before. When he entered the diner, the chairs were all neatly stacked on top of the tables, the floor was swept and the day's takings had been counted and set aside under the counter with a note from Gypsy. Sighing, he resolved not to be so hard on his fellow Stars Hollow residents all the time. And to bake Gypsy her own blueberry pie in gratitude.

He quickly set about cleaning the grill and assisting Aaron with the morning setup and service before eventually withdrawing to his apartment for a shower and shave. After throwing on a blue flannel and affixing his baseball cap to his head once again, Luke set off on the short walk to Doose's Market.

Drawing closer to the group of women assembled on the pavement in front of him, Luke overheard Miss Patty say, "I heard they had a big blow-up at the Independence Inn yesterday and he stormed out."

"I heard he finally told her he loved her. Eastside Tilly's telling everyone there was a ring involved but I don't know who her source was," Mrs. Cassini added seriously. "And apparently Luke ran out of the diner last night at warp speed. Didn't even bother to lock up or finish serving."

"I heard Lorelai begged him to come over and he stayed the _whole_ night."

"That bit's gotta be true," Babette added nodding emphatically. "Saw his truck there with my own eyes. He definitely stayed the night."

"I heard they're introducing corporal punishment for gossips that stick their noses in other peoples' business," Luke growled from behind, causing all three women to jump in shock.

Recovering quickly, Miss Patty purred, "You can punish me any day of the week soldier. I've never been one to turn down a good spanking."

Shaking his head, Luke ignored her suggestive leer and determinedly strode past the group toward the market. Setting them straight would only feed their habit; he wouldn't encourage them.

After filling his arms with supplies, Luke loaded them into the bed of the truck and made brief visits to both the pharmacy and diner before returning to his truck and driving the short distance to Lorelai's house.

Once again, she appeared surprised to see him, but not displeased. Stepping back to allow him entry, Lorelai followed Luke into the kitchen where he deposited the array of paper bags onto the dining table.

"Oooh it's like Christmas!" she exclaimed delightedly, clapping her hands together.

As he drew a handful of apples from one of the paper bags, Lorelai's smile suddenly faltered as she said, "Oh, apparently I was really bad this year."

"I wasn't kidding when I said you needed to eat healthier," Luke grumbled. "You keep going the way you are and Rory's gonna start believing blueberries grow in Pop-Tarts, not on bushes."

"Wait, you're telling me the magic doesn't happen at the Pop-Tart factory?" Lorelai goaded, pouting when he silenced her with a look.

"Seriously, would it kill you to humor me and eat an apple once in a while?"

"I eat apples all the time," Lorelai responded defensively.

"Pie doesn't count," he mumbled, all too familiar with her thought process. "If it's coated in sugar, paired with a giant hunk of pastry and guaranteed to clog your arteries, it definitely doesn't count."

"Ah well, you win some, you lose some," Lorelai shrugged, peeking into one of the remaining bags on the table. "You bought us Milk Duds!" she enthused, immediately drawing the packet from the bag.

"You're only allowed those if you eat the fruit first," Luke grunted, his lips set in a firm line.

"Sure thing," she agreed insincerely, ripping open the box in front of him and loading a few pieces of candy into her mouth. Luke simply groaned.

"So thanks for picking all of this up Luke. That was really thoughtful of you. What do I owe you?" she asked, pulling her wallet from her handbag.

"Don't worry about it," he mumbled, busying himself with unloading the bags.

"Seriously, please tell me," she begged. "You shouldn't be paying for all of this. There's enough food here to feed an army."

"Well I'm feeding you so it may as well be an army," he smirked. "I've seen you pack away a mountain of chili fries." Waving off the cash she continued to offer him, Luke gestured to some smaller bags on the table and said, "Have a look in those."

Settling her gaze in the direction he pointed, Lorelai spotted two _Luke's_ bags.

"Oh my God, please tell me you brought coffee!" Lorelai shrieked.

Unrolling the top of the first bag, she came across a to-go cup of coffee and another filled with tea, as well as a serve of fries. "You're my hero!" she gushed, hastily drawing the coffee cup to her lips and savoring the distinct flavor. "Oh my God, balance is restored to the universe."

Turning her attention to the second bag, Lorelai withdrew two cheeseburgers and a turkey salad, the latter clearly intended for Luke.

"I'm officially going to name my first-born son after you," she declared, clearing the last of the bags from the table.

Lorelai noticed Luke had also stopped in at the pharmacy, picking up a bottle of Calamine lotion and an oatmeal bath treatment for Rory. In typical Luke style, he waved off her thanks for the gesture, murmuring something about her probably already having everything she needed. In truth, she had already purchased both items, but she was touched by his thoughtfulness nonetheless. She delighted in the knowledge that underneath that gruff exterior was one giant marshmallow, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Disappearing into the lounge room briefly where Rory was watching a video, Lorelai returned a minute later with a despondent look on her face.

"What's wrong?" Luke asked, noting her downhearted expression.

"She won't eat," Lorelai sighed. "If anything's gonna do the trick it'll be one of your cheeseburgers but she still won't touch a thing."

"Still?" Luke asked concernedly. "What do you mean? How long since she's had something?"

"Tuesday morning," she fretted.

"What? But it's Thursday now. She hasn't eaten a thing in _two days_?"

"Yeah. She came down with the fever at school on Tuesday afternoon before the rash broke out. She ate breakfast before she left home in the morning but the teachers said she didn't touch her lunch. I haven't been able to get her to eat a thing since then. Only fluids."

"Have you spoken to the doctor?" Luke pressed worriedly.

"Yeah, he said loss of appetite is pretty common with chicken pox. But you know, it's _Rory_. _My_ daughter. She hasn't gone a day in her life without eating until now."

Luke sighed, running a hand over his baseball cap uneasily. "Did he say how long it's supposed to last?"

"No. All I know is the rash will be around for about a week. She's definitely got more spots since yesterday. He just said to keep offering her food and make sure she stays hydrated in the meantime."

"I'm sure she'll eat when she's ready," Luke murmured, but the sentiment was mainly just to set Lorelai at ease. The thought of Rory not eating worried him.

After they devoured their lunch, Luke spent 15 minutes sitting in with Rory before reluctantly preparing to leave. He was scheduled to work the late shift, meaning he would be at the diner until at least 10pm that evening.

"Alright Squirt, you be good for your mom, yeah? Take it easy and get lots of rest," Luke said, rising from the couch and giving her an affectionate pat on the head.

Rory nodded dutifully, drawing her attention away from the TV to farewell him.

"Will you come by tomorrow Luke?" she asked sweetly, her blue eyes filled with hope.

"Oh babe, Luke has already spent all of last night and part of today here. He's probably ready for a break from us," Lorelai answered. "Maybe if you ask him nicely he might find a time to visit sometime during the week but he's gotta flip some burgers to keep his customers happy so he can't come every day. We don't want to take up too much of his time, okay? Kirk might get a little testy if we steal his diner boyfriend away for too long," she joked.

"Okay," Rory whispered sadly, her eyes downcast.

"Hey, don't be sad," Luke murmured. "I'll definitely come to visit you kiddo. I'm sure you'll have read at least another chapter or two of your book before I stop by again, so you'll have to give me the update on what's happened when I see you next, okay?"

"Okay," Rory agreed, her lips tugging up at the corners.

"See you soon Squirt."

"Bye Luke."

Stepping out onto the porch, he once again waved off Lorelai's insistent thanks and marched toward his truck. Winding down the window and perching his arm on the sill, Luke smiled briefly before calling, "Don't hesitate to sing out if you need anything. I'm here anytime."

-o-

"C'mon sweetie. Just one bite. That's all I ask," Sookie begged, waving a spoonful of food enticingly in Rory's direction.

The 10-year-old simply shook her head, mindlessly repeating once again, "No thanks Sookie."

"Well what about the duck? I've made a special green peppercorn glaze so I guarantee it's to die for."

Raising her eyes beseechingly to her mother as Sookie moved to the kitchen counter to unveil her latest creation, Rory silently pleaded with Lorelai to bring the chef's attempt at force-feeding to an end.

"Sook, I really appreciate the effort honey," Lorelai began. "Maybe Rory's just gonna need a little more time before she can stomach anything."

Before Sookie could respond, a knock sounded at the front door, the welcome distraction prompting Rory to breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"I'll get it," Lorelai called, moving toward the front door. This time she wasn't surprised to find Luke waiting patiently on the other side, a paper bag grasped in his hand.

"Hey Burger Boy," she greeted.

"Hey, how's the patient?"

"Still not eating, much to Sookie's dismay."

"Wow, still?" He asked incredulously, accepting her wordless invitation to step inside.

"Yeah, Sookie's cooked her practically every dish under the sun but Rory's still adamant she's not hungry."

Luke sighed. "Well, I brought her this on the off-chance it might tempt her into taking a bite," he murmured, extending the bag in Lorelai's direction.

Peering inside, Lorelai exclaimed, "Why Mr Danes, this looks awfully like pie to me. I thought you were hell-bent on her eating nothing but rabbit food."

"Yeah well, desperate times call for desperate measures. I figure it's better she has something on her stomach rather than nothing at all," he shrugged.

"Thanks Luke," she offered sincerely. "Let's give it a try. We might need to leave it until after Sookie's finished traumatizing her if we're going to see results though."

Entering the kitchen, the duo heard Sookie stressing, "Honey, I don't think you understand. This is _truffle butter-infused Japanese wagyu beef_. People pay a _lot_ of money for the privilege of eating this."

Desperate for an escape, Rory took the opportunity to bounce from her chair at Luke's arrival, the little girl making her way toward him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Luke!" she exclaimed happily.

"Hey squirt. How's tricks?"

"Good," she replied, smiling up at him.

"Sookie," he acknowledged with a friendly nod.

"Hi Luke," Sookie said distractedly, letting out a sigh of defeat. "I make the kid just about every dish known to man and not one of them tempts her. Not even my coq au vin. Can you believe that? _No one_ can resist my coq au vin."

"Tough gig," Luke grunted.

"Oh, you're gonna see if you have better luck with pie?" Sookie added, noticing the treat. "That'd be just my luck…I cook all my best dishes and she'll just want apple pie."

"Thought it was worth a try," he shrugged.

"Well if not, I know someone that will polish it off," Lorelai smirked. "Trust me guys, none of this will go to waste."

Sookie set about wrapping up each of the dishes and placing them in the fridge before turning to the group and saying, "Alright, I've got to get back to the inn. The food's in there if you change your mind Rory, or if you think of something you feel like that's not already in the fridge, let me know and I'll whip it up for you."

"Thanks Sookie," both Gilmores echoed, Lorelai following her friend to the door to see her out.

Turning his attention back to Rory who had resumed her seat at the table, Luke dropped down into the chair opposite her and inquired, "What you got there Squirt?"

"School work," she said simply.

"School work? They're still making you work while you're off sick?"

"No, Mrs. Foster said she could take the week off and just catch up when she's back but little miss star student here couldn't bear the thought of missing out on this week's lessons," Lorelai smirked, making her way back into the kitchen.

"I should have known," Luke mumbled.

"Yeah, Mrs. Kim was nice enough to drop around the worksheets for her. It was a pity that Lane couldn't come in and say hello because she hasn't had the chicken pox before."

"Oh that's too bad. So what are you learning about kiddo?" Luke asked casually.

"Clouds. I just found out that they are made up of millions of tiny droplets of water or ice crystals that are so small they can float in the air," Rory explained.

"Wow. Pretty cool stuff," Luke affirmed.

"Yeah. And now I'm about to learn all about the different types of clouds, but some of them have really tricky names. Do you know much about them Luke?"

"A little," he admitted. "My dad was pretty good with all that stuff. He taught me a thing or two about what all the different clouds look like and what kind of weather they bring."

"Will you help me with my work sheet?" Rory implored.

"Please," Lorelai added, making sure Rory was using her manners.

"Please," Rory repeated, blushing slightly.

"Sure. I don't know how much help I'll be but I'll try."

The duo set about working through the material, Lorelai turning her attention to a stack of papers that Sookie had brought over for her from the inn. While she couldn't be at work, she could at least try and get on top of some of the paperwork awaiting her while Rory was distracted.

"So alto clouds are which ones again?" Rory inquired, her eyes scrunched up in thought.

"They're the ones that sit in the middle of the sky," Luke confirmed. "So it's cirrus clouds at the top – they sit anywhere above 18,000 feet – alto clouds in the middle and stratus clouds down low."

"Cirrus, alto, stratus," Rory repeated, moving her hand in a downwards motion in front of her. "Got it." Looking back down at the learning material, she murmured, "So the sheet says there are different cloud types within each group. And we also need to cover cumulus clouds and special clouds."

They continued to work steadily through each line of the worksheet, Rory doing her best to recall the lengthy cloud names and the type of weather they signaled.

"So stratocumulus clouds are the ones in the stratus group that produce a lot of rain? Is that right?" she asked, unsure.

"Almost kiddo. You don't normally get much rain from stratocumulus clouds, but they can develop into nimbostratus clouds which bring rainfall. Does that make sense?"

"Oh, I get it. Thanks Luke," she added, scribbling in her notebook. "I keep getting confused between all the different types," Rory sighed, twisting her pencil between her fingertips.

"Don't worry, you'll get there eventually. It will just take a bit of time." An idea occurring to Luke, he added, "Why don't you work on memorizing all the different names while I focus on something that I think will help you to tell the difference between them all? It might not work but I think it's worth a shot."

"What is it?" Rory asked inquisitively.

"You'll see," he answered evasively, rising from his chair. Both Gilmores stared at him questioningly for a moment before Rory shrugged and returned to her work sheet.

Meeting Lorelai's probing gaze through her glasses, Luke merely offered her a reassuring smile and set about his task.

Fifteen minutes later, Luke returned to the table, a saucepan held tightly in one hand and a plate and multiple spoons balanced in the other. Clearing her papers to make room, Rory watched as Luke deposited the items on the table in front of her.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously.

"I'm showing you the different cloud types," Luke shrugged. "Right now, this might look a whole lot like mashed potatoes to you, but it's actually every kind of cloud rolled into one."

Dolloping a chunk of the mixture onto the plate, he used the back of the spoon to smooth out the mash until it was spread thinly with spaces in between.

"Okay, so this is a cirrus cloud," Luke clarified. "These are the most common versions of the high clouds we talked about. They are usually quite thin and wispy, because the wind blows them around a bit so they stretch out and almost look like long streamers. If you see these guys, you can usually bank on fairly good weather, but they also indicate a change in the weather will occur in about a day's time."

Rory nodded vigorously, sketching a picture in her notebook and writing down some dot points.

Sculpting the mash until it took on the form he was after, Luke looked up again and said, "Okay, this is a cirrocumulus cloud. These ones have lots of little round, white puffs that appear in rows. If you pay attention, they kind of look like fish scales. So maybe you could remember this one's name and shape by saying you have a fish called Cirro. You generally see these guys in winter time. Usually, they hint that the weather will be fine, but pretty cold."

Again, Rory frantically scrawled in her notebook, looking up enthusiastically to find out what was next.

Adding a few more spoonfuls of potato to the plate, Luke, fluffed up the mixture so it stood tall and puffy.

"Now we've got a cumulus cloud. These ones are white and fluffy and they kind of look like big chunks of cotton candy. Notice that the bottom is flat and the tops are all rounded. You usually see these in the sky on nice, sunny days."

Pausing for a moment, Luke picked up one of the spoons and began scooping some of the mixture into his mouth, subtly sliding a second spoon beside Rory but not making any attempt to urge her to eat.

"Which one should we do next kid?" he asked, swallowing the spoonful of potato before casually helping himself to more.

"Umm, how about the altocumulus cloud?" Rory suggested.

"Sure, I'm just gonna need to clear off some of this extra potato to make that one," he acknowledged, spooning another portion into his mouth.

He worked hard to disguise his grin when he saw Rory reach for the cutlery he'd placed at her side, carefully inching her spoon forward to collect some of the mash before transferring it to her mouth. Luke deliberately didn't acknowledge the movement, conscious of not deterring her. They each took a few more mouthfuls, Luke finally beginning to sculpt the next cloud on the plate.

He continued to run through each of the remaining cloud types, both he and Rory eating the mash directly from the saucepan as they discussed the different names and shapes. He couldn't help the tingle that snaked down his spine when Lorelai caught his eye and smiled her trademark luminous smile. He merely offered a lopsided grin, his cheeks flushing when she gratefully mouthed "thank you" from across the room.

Sookie was going to lose it when she found out mashed potatoes had trumped her coq au vin.

-o-

Luke was in two minds.

On one hand, he didn't want to overstay his welcome at the Gilmore residence, so his rational side argued it was best for him to keep his distance over the weekend. On the other, he found himself dying to see the two blue-eyed beauties; desperate for his next hit.

After having gone for more than a week without their company when Lorelai had been avoiding him, Luke felt the need to make up for lost time. His confrontation with Lorelai at the inn and the visits to the Gilmore household that followed throughout Rory's bout of chicken pox had merely fueled the fire, and he found himself eagerly soaking up every second spent in their presence.

Finally coming to the conclusion that he had already exhausted every possible excuse to drop by, Luke resigned himself to the fact that he would have to stay away unless she called.

That was until Babette stopped in at the diner and handed him all the justification he needed.

"Hi Sugar," she barked, taking a seat at an empty table by the window and nodding at the jug of coffee he raised questioningly. Pouring her a cup of the fresh brew, Luke took her order before moving behind the counter to plate up her slice of pie.

Returning to the table, he heard Babette say, "Listen Luke, I gotta tell ya, I'm real sorry about the other day. That damn Eastside Tilly had us all in a spin. I mean, I live next door to Lorelai, so Patty and I have normally got that territory covered. You can imagine how shocked we were when we thought she had the scoop on you two kids."

"No scoop Babette," he said dryly.

"I know sugar. Lorelai told me all about Rory being sick and you being such a big help to them. Hell, Rory still won't touch anything but your mashed potatoes. Had Lorelai over this morning asking me how to make them because the kid wouldn't come at Deb. The poor doll is a walking disaster in the kitchen."

"Lorelai's cooking?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Attempting to. Wouldn't be surprised if she's set the place on fire by now."

"Aw geez. Maybe I should just make Rory some mashed potatoes and take it over there."

"Wouldn't hurt. I offered to help her make it but you know Lorelai; always got her heart set on doin' everything for Rory by herself."

"Yep, sounds like Lorelai," he murmured, tugging on the brim of his baseball cap and mentally working out how soon he could vacate the diner. "Well I wouldn't want Rory to go hungry…"

"Of course not sugar," Babette agreed, patting him on the arm encouragingly.

Less than 30 minutes later, Luke arrived at the Gilmore household, his nose assaulted with the acrid smell of burning as he followed Lorelai into the kitchen.

"Don't laugh," she ordered sternly, waving the dish towel in front of her to clear the light smoke blanketing the room.

"Seriously? How is the smoke alarm not going off?"

"Took the batteries out a month ago," she grumbled.

"You took the batteries out? Why would you do that?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, it was beeping one night to let me know the batteries were running low and the noise was driving me mental when I was trying to sleep."

"That's when you _replace_ the batteries Lorelai."

"Well I didn't have any, did I?" she said defensively.

"Geez. You're gonna turn me gray before I'm 30," he groaned.

Opening a few windows to help disperse the smoke, Luke finally asked, "How's Rory doing today?"

"She's okay. Still really itchy but she hasn't had any new spots pop up so hopefully they'll start clearing up soon."

"Oh that's good. She asleep at the moment?"

"Nah, taking a bath. It seems to help with the itching so I've been getting her to take a few each day. Hey you think this is salvageable?" Lorelai added, gesturing to the saucepan sitting atop the stove.

Luke couldn't help but laugh out loud when he saw the congealed excuse for mashed potato and registered the teasing glint in her eye that told him she was joking.

"How is it even possible to turn mashed potatoes black?" He asked, another chuckle rumbling from his throat.

"Pure, God-given talent," she smirked. "What do I always say? We Gilmores are bred to be pretty, not domestic goddesses."

"Well, I'm sure Rory will appreciate the sentiment, but maybe pick up the phone next time. I'd like to minimize the risk of the house burning down at least until I can fit your smoke alarm with new batteries, okay?"

"You never let me have any fun," Lorelai mumbled.

"Seriously though, why didn't you call me?" he asked, setting the batch of mashed potatoes he'd prepared at the diner down onto the table in preparation for when Rory finished upstairs.

"I didn't want to put you out," she explained, scooping the burnt potato into the trash. You've already done so much for us this week and I didn't want to be a burden."

"You are _not_ a burden Lorelai," he said sincerely. "I like to look out for you and Rory. Gives me something useful to do," he added with a shrug.

"Yeah, but I'm her mom. I'm supposed to know how to do this stuff," she sighed, placing the saucepan down and leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"No, you're not," he said firmly, taking a step toward her and grasping her upper arms. "Not necessarily. No one's perfect at everything. It's not a crime to ask for help from time to time you know."

"I know," she said softly, making no move to escape his loose grip.

They stood there in comfortable silence for a time, both fascinated by the hum of energy that circled between them. It wasn't the heated sexual attraction that sometimes struck them unaware, but more an air of contentment and connectedness combined with a sense of warmth that trickled down to their fingertips.

"I missed my best friend last week," Lorelai admitted bashfully.

"I missed you too. And Rory," Luke sighed, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. "The diner was too quiet without you."

"Aha! You admit it! You like the chatter. So that means I can talk as loud and as often as I like whenever I come in from now on!" Lorelai smirked.

"No you can take a leaf out of your daughter's book and sit quietly and behave yourself," Luke grumbled.

"You missed it all. The begging for coffee, the singing, the whining…"

"I did not miss the whining."

"The mocking, the snarky remarks, the incessant chatter."

"I take it back. I didn't miss you at all."

"You missed me every day," she continued teasingly, heedless of his objections. "All week, you waited helplessly for me to sidle up to your counter demanding coffee and something greasy and delicious from the grill."

"I did not wait helplessly."

"You missed me," she repeated quietly, her eyes locking on his as she lifted her hands to rest lightly on his hips, joining Luke in breaching the invisible barrier they so often imposed between them.

"I missed you," he conceded, enjoying the feeling of having her stand so close without bolting.

Not a moment later, the two were drawn from their reverie when Rory called out to say she was finished in the bath, signaling the need for Lorelai to go upstairs and assist her with applying Calamine lotion.

Luke reluctantly released her from his grasp, stepping back and offering her a brief nod.

Making her way from the room, Lorelai wasn't sure whether he intended for her to hear the softly spoken words that slipped from his lips as she mounted the stairs.

"I missed you more than anything crazy lady."

-o-


	8. Chapter 8

He'd never been a big fan of coffee. Never fully wrapped his head around the attraction or the satisfaction his customers seemed to draw from it. Never found himself in a situation that induced him to pour himself a cup.

Flipping the sign to indicate the diner was closed, Luke made his way across the now-deserted floor, coming to a standstill in front of the coffee machine. As was his routine, he picked up both pots, preparing to dispose of the contents down the sink. He watched as the decaf blend slowly trickled down the drain, then set the empty pot aside to be washed.

Habitually, he began to tip the remaining caffeinated brew, but stopped himself before the dark liquid had a chance to cascade from the spout. Instead, he found himself drawing the pot higher, breathing in the intoxicating aroma that assaulted his senses.

After years of operating the diner, Luke had grown accustomed to ignoring the arresting scent. He rarely noticed it when he prepared the first brew of the morning and there was seldom time to pause and drink it in when this diner was filled with customers. Not that he would have anyway.

In the quiet of the abandoned diner, Luke had to admit that as much as he claimed an aversion to it, the steaming beverage smelled good. There was a certain familiarity about it. He was drawn in by the intensity of the brew and the warmth emanating from it. Rich. Sweet. Addictive.

When he'd stayed over at the Gilmore household for the second time that week – this time after passing out on the lounge while waiting for Lorelai to finish getting Rory ready for bed – he'd come to develop a strange appreciation for the previously eschewed beverage. He'd awoken early in the morning to a silent house, Lorelai apparently having draped a blanket across him before retiring to her room for the night. Knowing he wouldn't see her before he departed for the diner, he'd set about preparing a pot of coffee in readiness for when she awoke. The distinct aroma had permeated his senses and he'd found himself enamored by the buttery notes of vanilla and the hint of maple enveloping the room, truly grasping the brew's appeal for the first time as he effortlessly moved about her kitchen.

He suspected his appreciation might grow even further if he was granted the right to deliver a mug to Lorelai's bedside every morning and watch her eyes sparkle with delight. He could get used to that being one of the first sights that greeted him when he woke up. Hell, he could even picture himself learning to love the flavor if only he was given permission to taste it on her lips.

As it was, Luke was far from convinced that Lorelai would be open to the idea of a relationship with him. The question crossed his mind often, and he immediately dismissed it time and time again, determined to give her the time she needed to think and state her case now that Rory was on the mend.

He held tight to the thought that she had at least welcomed his help during Rory's bout of chicken pox, and that they had shared a few quiet and comfortable moments throughout his visits, Lorelai forgoing the impulse to run. The electric energy that surrounded them was undeniable and he wondered what it would take for her to succumb to its pull.

Drawing his face away from the pot of coffee, Luke sighed before tipping the remaining dregs down the drain and returning to the task at hand. The night on Lorelai's couch had seemingly left him with an aching neck and he found himself exhausted after more than a week of worrying about Rory and making sure she had all the mashed potatoes she could possibly need or want.

Thankfully, Rory's spots were no longer contagious and she was now able to leave the house and see her friends again. Much to her dismay, she had been unable to return to school, with summer vacation arriving before the infection had fully dissipated.

The unrepentant thud in Luke's head reminded him of how little sleep he'd gotten of late, spurring him to complete the clean-up as quickly as possible and retreat upstairs. As he entered the front door of his apartment, the solitude he normally welcomed struck him like a ton of bricks. It felt quiet in the tiny space – lonely even – and Luke found himself wishing for the sounds of Lorelai's incessant chatter; for Rory's soft giggle as he tickled her belly or recounted one of Kirk's latest escapades.

Changing into his sweats and falling into bed, Luke was grateful Caesar was rostered to open in the morning, allowing him to stay in bed a little later than usual. His muscles ached and he relished the feel of the soft pillows, sinking down into their warmth.

Luke slept soundly, so deep in slumber that he barely shifted an inch throughout the night.

Venturing to the bathroom to take a shower the following morning, his head still pounding, it took a moment for him to register the telltale spots clustered on his stomach. Moving to the mirror above the sink, Luke's suspicions were confirmed when his noticed a handful of bright red marks on his face.

Without even realizing it, it appeared the youngest Gilmore had left him with more than just a finely tuned mashed potato recipe.

-o-

Lorelai bustled through the door of the diner, savoring the feel of being able to escape the confines of the house after almost two weeks of forced quarantine. She'd just dropped Rory at the Kim house for her long-awaited play date with Lane and planned to spend the couple of hours until her shift started at the inn embracing her newly regained freedom and indulging in a coffee – or three – from _Luke's_.

The long days spent caring for Rory and attempting to complete paperwork for the inn each night after her daughter fell asleep had undoubtedly taken their toll and Lorelai found herself craving a much-needed caffeine hit.

Casting her eyes around the diner, she immediately sought Luke's gaze but instead found herself greeted with a friendly hello from Caesar. Imparting a wave and taking a moment to chat with some of the Stars Hollow townsfolk she hadn't seen since before Rory became unwell, Lorelai finally made her way over to the counter, calling, "Caesar, I need the biggest cup of coffee you've got. In fact, just serve it to me in a bucket if you have one."

Caesar hastened to fulfill her request, placing a large mug on the counter top and smiling to acknowledge her uttered thanks.

"Luke about?" she asked in what she hoped was an off-handed tone.

"Not today. He's off sick so it's just Aaron and I."

"Sick? Luke never gets sick," Lorelai exclaimed, surprised. "He's practically immortal. Like Superman. Or Peter Pan. Or Freddy Krueger without the serial killer tendencies. It's impossible to crack that souped-up immune system."

Caesar simply shrugged. "Apparently not. It must be pretty bad because he said he was going to be off for a while."

"What's wrong with him?" Lorelai asked, panicked.

"No idea. He didn't give details. Just said he wouldn't make it downstairs today. Look sorry, I gotta…" he trailed off, gesturing around to the busy diner.

"Go, go," Lorelai said, waving him off. Taking a sip of her coffee, she glanced around the diner one more time before rising from her chair and making her way behind the curtain that led to Luke's apartment. Lorelai had never ventured up the stairs before and suddenly felt a nervous twinge in her gut as she approached the door.

"Luke?" she called softly, careful not to wake him on the off-chance he was asleep.

Receiving no response, she rapped lightly against the slightly ajar door before cautiously pushing it open. "Luke? You here?"

Scanning the room for any sign of him, Lorelai took in the cluttered space, the motley mix of photo frames adorning the walls and the sizable tub of Mega-Man protein powder resting atop the kitchen counter, making a mental note to mock him for that later.

"Lorelai?" she heard him ask from across the room, her eyes tracing the noise to the single bed where he rested on his back, sans shirt and trademark baseball cap.

"Hey," she returned, making her way over to him. "Sorry to barge in on you. I didn't wake you did I? I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Caesar said you were sick."

"Ah geez, I'm fine," he countered, propping himself up on his elbow. "Sorry, I'll put a shirt on," he murmured, moving to get up.

"Don't bother. You rest. Oh my God. Tell me you don't have chicken pox," she gasped, catching sight of the handful of red marks scattered across his face and torso. With the infection still in the early stages, Luke only had a light sprinkling of spots.

"It's nothing," he mumbled, waving off her concern.

"Oh God, you do, don't you?" she fretted. "I'm _so_ sorry. I can't believe I didn't ask you whether you'd had them before. I just assumed you must have like Sookie and I. I'm such an idiot. Why didn't you say something?"

"Didn't know," he shrugged. "I couldn't remember ever having them as a kid so I guessed I hadn't caught them before. It wasn't like I could exactly call up Mom or Dad to check though."

"Oh Luke," she sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "I'm so, so sorry. I can't believe I let this happen."

"Don't worry about it. Wouldn't have changed anything even if I knew for sure. I still would have come around no matter what you said."

Her eyes raking over his skin concernedly for further signs of the rash, Lorelai asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

Sighting the disbelieving quirk of her eyebrow he added, "Ah geez. A bit of a headache but it's nothing to worry about, alright?"

Taking in his flushed cheeks and shirtless state atop the bed covers, it didn't take much for Lorelai to realize he was downplaying his condition. Instinctively, she reached a hand out to touch his forehead.

"God Luke, you're burning up."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"You're not fine," she chastised. Reaching for her handbag, she rummaged through its depths before withdrawing a pack of Advil. "Here, take two of these. I'll get you some water."

Luke eyed the pills dubiously.

"They're just to help with the fever. Be a good patient, will you?"

"Chances are I'll end up with something more life-threatening than chicken pox if I swallow goods from your handbag. I know how long it's been since you cleaned that out," he countered pointedly.

"Oh, calm your farm. They're not going to kill you. See? Fully sealed and in date," she pointed out, gesturing to the intact blister pack. "I'm a mom. I'm practically a walking pharmacy and between you and I, I kinda like my kid so believe me when I say I make sure the meds are up to scratch. It's the Oreos you need to watch out for."

Making her way into his kitchen and locating a glass, Lorelai filled it with water before returning to the bed and handing it to him.

"Thanks," he muttered begrudgingly, proceeding to swallow the pills. When he didn't gulp down all the water, Lorelai pointed to it, prompting him to finish its contents.

"Keep going. You've gotta keep your fluids up Burger Boy."

Luke simply scowled, downing the water and flopping back against the mattress tiredly. Resuming her position seated at the foot of the bed, Lorelai studied his prone form, taking note of his closed eyes.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" she asked softly.

"No, I'm good thank you," he murmured, his voice low and raspy. "The pills are more than enough."

"I really am sorry," she whispered sincerely, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and once again leaning forward to rest her hand against his heated forehead.

"Don't be," he mumbled, his eyes popping open. "Were you coming in today so we could talk?"

Lorelai nodded, her gaze dropping to the bed cover.

"Huh," he acknowledged calmly. "And what were you going to say?"

"I don't know," she confessed truthfully.

Luke's piercing gaze roamed her features, searching for any indication of what was running through her mind.

"I was kind of hoping something would come to me when I got here."

Luke simply nodded, reaching out to take her hand in his when she removed it from his forehead.

"Anything springing to mind?" he murmured.

"I should let you rest."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd really like to know."

Lorelai exhaled slowly, siphoning through the myriad of thoughts swirling around her head.

"You got chicken pox for my daughter," she breathed.

"Well, I wouldn't put it exactly like that myself," he clarified. "I happened to get chicken pox after visiting her when she was sick."

"You knew there was a good chance you'd pick it up and you still made her mashed potatoes for every meal, helped her with her homework and spent time with her, day in, day out."

"No big deal," he shrugged modestly.

"It's a _very_ big deal to me."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Luke running his thumb across Lorelai's knuckles gently. He didn't dare rush her, allowing her to gather her thoughts before she spoke again a minute later.

"On one hand, my head is screaming at me that there's this incredible guy standing right in front of me who I adore and to take a leap because for some crazy reason he actually wants me and he'd do anything in the world for me and my daughter," Lorelai sighed. "On the other hand, my rational side is begging me not to screw up what we have. You're my best friend Luke."

"That doesn't have to change."

"Maybe not," she admitted with a wry smile. "But what happens if we were to give this a try and then break up? My track record with relationships is a train wreck. It's in my nature to screw this up. And if I do that, it will be far worse than any other break-up because neither of us will have our best friend to turn to."

After a few moments of silence she added hoarsely, "Rory practically worships the ground you walk on. It would kill her to lose you."

"Just Rory?"

Lorelai sighed. "It would kill me too," she whispered shakily. "I can't imagine my life without you in it Luke."

"So don't," he murmured, rising into a sitting position and inching close enough behind her that he could drink in the sweet scent of her shampoo. He made no attempt to hide the movement, positioning his face beside the loose curls that cascaded over her shoulder. Breathing in deeply, he exhaled contentedly when she inclined the side of her head towards his.

"This feels so right Lorelai. I know you feel it too," he whispered.

"I'm scared Luke," she admitted, tilting her head away from his and unintentionally leaving the alluring curve of her neck exposed.

"I know. I am too," he agreed, closing his eyes and lightly brushing his soft stubble against the smooth skin of her shoulder and neck.

"I'll mess everything up."

"You won't," he murmured, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest.

"We could be bad for each other."

"We won't be," he refuted, his breath warm against her ear.

"You might end up hating me."

"Impossible," he breathed, brushing her hair back from her shoulder and letting his fingertips graze against her milky white flesh. "Let me show you how good it could be Lorelai. We could be amazing."

His lips hovered above her neck and he desperately wanted to claim her racing pulse beneath them, but dared not press them to her skin without knowing her verdict.

"You have to promise me I won't lose you Luke," she whispered, vulnerability evident in her tone. "I can't lose you."

"I promise," he vowed, squeezing her hand in his and drawing it toward his lips. He gently turned her palm upward and lowered his head to brush a single kiss against the inside of her wrist. "I promise that whatever happens, I will always be there for you and Rory."

"We'll always be friends?"

 _"Always_ ," he confirmed, returning to her neck and finally claiming the ivory skin with his lips lightly. He could feel her pulse beating wildly and knew it mirrored his own.

"Always," he whispered again, nuzzling her ear and peppering it with gentle kisses.

"Luke," she sighed almost inaudibly, giving herself over to him and reveling in the sense of warmth that flooded her body.

"Lorelai," he hummed, tilting her chin gently with his index finger and locking eyes with her before lowering his lips to hers in a heart-stopping kiss.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, pulling back and stroking her long tresses lightly. "Beautiful girl."

Uncharacteristically shy, Lorelai's lips quirked in a lopsided smile, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"Was that…umm…weird for you?" she asked nervously.

Luke contemplated for a moment before shaking his head, his hand still tangled in her curls. "This has been a long time coming for me Lorelai. It feels right to have you as more than a friend. Was it weird for you?" he added after a short pause.

"Not really. Maybe a little, but…umm…good weird, you know? I mean you're _Luke_. I've spent so long not kissing you that it seems odd suddenly doing it."

Luke chuckled, absentmindedly twisting strands of her hair around his fingers. "I get it."

Biting her lower lip, Lorelai shifted her body to face him and lifted her gaze to study the contours of his face, finding only adoration and awe etched in his features.

"You know there's one surefire way to stamp out any weirdness," he ventured, a cheeky glint flashing in his eye as his gaze darted down to her lips once again.

"Okay, where is Luke Danes and what have you done with him?" she accused, surprised by his atypical bold behavior.

"Same old Luke. Only difference is this time I finally got the girl," he confessed, moving his hand to toy with a stray curl hanging by her shoulder.

"More like the pain meds are beginning to take effect."

"You might be onto something," he shrugged. "Lorelai?" he added in a low tone, the softly spoken word sending a shiver down her spine. "I'd really like to kiss you again."

"Well I've never been one to get in the way of a good plan" she whispered, drawing her face close to his and anticipating the moment his warm lips would brush against hers.

He didn't hold back, pressing his lips to hers tenderly before lightly running his tongue along her lower lip, begging for entrance. She willingly obliged, allowing their tongues to duel in a kiss full of anticipation and promise.

Desperate for oxygen, Luke finally pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, taking in the deep blue of her eyes. "Less weird?" he asked, his lips tugging up at the corners.

"I don't know. I might need some more convincing," she confessed, her face mirroring his half smile.

"That can be arranged," he conceded, pecking feather-light kisses to her lips, jaw and cheeks before returning his forehead to rest against hers. "Mmm, you taste like coffee."

"You hate coffee," she whispered.

"Not on you."

They held their position for a few minutes, content to breathe the same air and absorb the feeling of being near one another.

Running her hands through his tousled hair, Lorelai finally whispered, "You need to rest."

"Rest schmest," Luke growled. "If you think I'm letting go of you now, you're sorely mistaken. I could kiss you all day long."

"I'm serious Luke," she replied with a quiet giggle.

"So am I," he mumbled, dropping back against the mattress once again. "Lie with me," he murmured, opening his arms in invitation. "Just until you have to go to work."

Exhausted after her taxing week, Lorelai complied, nuzzling into the crook of his arm and sighing contentedly.

"We're gonna be amazing Lorelai. You just wait and see."

-o-

"Are you sure we're allowed to be back here?" Rory fretted, her forehead creased with skepticism.

"I'm sure babe," Lorelai affirmed, pulling the curtain aside and gesturing for Rory to start up the stairs to Luke's apartment. The younger Gilmore paused on the bottom step, eyeing her mother with uncertainty.

"But won't Luke be mad at us? I don't want to get in trouble."

"When has Luke _ever_ been mad at you? I don't think you could get in his bad books even if you tried."

Taking in her daughter's still hesitant stance, Lorelai added, "Relax kid. I popped up here to check on him before work this morning and he didn't mind at all. Trust me when I say he'll be happy to see you."

A hint of doubt still etched in her features, Rory finally conceded, turning on her heel and climbing the flight of stairs. As they reached the landing, Lorelai said, "We won't stay too long. Luke will be feeling as sick as you did when you first came down with chicken pox, so we can just make sure he has everything he needs and leave him to rest, okay?"

"Okay."

Knocking on the door, Lorelai called in a singsong voice, "Luke, you home? Why, I believe it's those adorable Gilmore Girls here to see you."

The door opened a moment later, a pale and pockmarked Luke greeting them and motioning for them to enter.

"How you feeling spotty?" Lorelai inquired, stepping over the threshold with Rory at her heels and noticing the increased number of spots marking his body.

"Fine," he responded in his trademark monosyllable, brandishing one hand dismissively as he closed the door and turned to face them.

"I've heard that before," she challenged, her eyebrow raised cynically.

Shrugging, Luke said, "Fever seems to have broken so hopefully I'm through the worst stage. How are you Squirt?" He added, turning his attention to Rory.

"Good thank you," she answered timidly, hiding partially behind her mother's frame. "I'm really sorry about making you sick Luke."

"Oh, don't mention it. If I didn't catch it now then I probably would have gotten it next time it was going around. No big deal kiddo."

"Well lucky for you, Dr Gilmore here knows all the tricks for dealing with chicken pox after having them so she's here to share her secrets," Lorelai said with a wink, giving Rory an affectionate pat on the head. "You wanna show Luke what we brought for him babe?"

Drawing the paper bag from her side, Rory began to pull out a number of items, explaining their use as she deposited them on the table nearby.

"This is Calamine lotion for dabbing on your spots every day," she said informatively, holding up a pink bottle. "These are just some cotton balls to put it on with. This one is a cooling gel and it really helps with the itching. This one's the oatmeal wash for the bath; it's the same one you bought for me. Mom said you probably won't want to take a bath but we got it just in case. And this is Colonel Clucker," she added, pulling her treasured plush toy from the bottom of the bag. "I thought you might like to borrow him while you're sick so you're not alone if you wake up in the middle of the night."

"Thanks Rory," Luke said with a soft smile. "That's very thoughtful of you and your mom. Are you sure you want to leave Colonel Clucker here though? Won't you miss him when you go to sleep?"

"I've got Mom at home but you're here all alone. I think you need him more than I do at the moment," she explained earnestly, prompting both Luke and Lorelai to grin.

"Well thank you kiddo. I'll be sure to take good care of him while he's here. You wanna go set him up on the bed?"

Rory agreed readily, cradling the toy to her chest as she carried it toward the single bed Luke had pointed to.

"So I see we've got matching spots now Squirt," Luke acknowledged, holding up his arm in her direction.

While Rory was no longer contagious, her spots had yet to fade entirely.

"Yeah, you guys could start a band!" Lorelai enthused. "Call yourselves Spot of Bother. Or The Seven-year Itch. Ooh! Better yet, The Rash. It's like The Clash, but infected."

"Charming," Luke muttered dryly. "How about we don't and just say we did?"

"Kill joy," Lorelai rebuked. Turning toward her daughter, she added, "You wanna head downstairs and face the onslaught sweet cheeks?"

"Okay," Rory sighed dutifully, giving Colonel Clucker one last pat on the head before saying her goodbyes to Luke and heading for the door.

"Go ahead and order dinner like we talked about. I'll be down in a little while," Lorelai affirmed with a smile. Taking in Luke's quizzical look, she explained, "The townies are out in force. Babette and Miss Patty saw us walk in and were fawning all over Rory. They haven't seen her since before she got sick so there was so much cheek squeezing going on it was lucky she made it up here with her face intact. I promised to release her to their clutches as soon as she said hello to you."

"Geez, poor kid."

"Ah, she'll be fine. She's just about mastered the duck and weave by now."

Luke snorted, making his way over to the table to inspect the items she had purchased for him.

"Thanks again for all this. You really didn't need to go to so much trouble."

"No trouble," she shrugged. "It's the least I could do after everything you did for Rory."

Luke simply nodded, leaning back lightly against the edge of the table and allowing his gaze to lock with hers. Now that Rory had left the room, he granted himself the luxury of studying her face thoughtfully and reveling in her presence. He could almost pinpoint the moment when the nervous energy set in. While they'd parted on good terms in the morning, he realized they hadn't actually discussed next steps for their relationship or where they stood with one another.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Hey," she returned softly.

"I wasn't sure if you'd stop by tonight."

"Well, here I am," she shrugged nonchalantly, the hint of apprehensiveness in her manner not escaping Luke's attention.

"Here you are," he agreed, a slight smile gracing his lips as he did his best to set her at ease. "It's nice to see you. Your day finish up okay?"

"Yeah, had a big group of golfers check in for a tournament that's happening this weekend. Knocked over some paperwork. Taste-tested about 300 different soup variations after Sookie somehow got it in her head that her signature soup wasn't edgy enough."

"Oh yeah? How'd that work out for you?"

"I can safely say tofu and bananas have no business calling themselves a soup ingredient," she scowled. "Or any kind of food worth eating for that matter."

"Duly noted."

Silence soon settling around them, Lorelai took in Luke's pockmarked frame before saying, "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll help you put the Calamine lotion on your back before I head off so you're a bit more comfortable tonight?"

"Oh…er…that's okay. I'm sure I can manage," he mumbled awkwardly, waving off her offer.

"Don't be silly Luke. You're going to be itching like crazy if you don't put it on. Do what you can and then I'll help you with the spots that are out of your reach and get out of your hair so you can sleep. You might as well just save your breath and get on with it already…you're not going to win this argument Bucko," she said pointedly, handing him the bottle of lotion and bag of cotton balls.

"Ah geez," he sighed, eyeing her sternly before giving in and heading for the bathroom.

Lorelai busied herself washing the handful of dishes by the kitchen sink and wiping down the counter tops while she waited for him to finish in the shower. She heard the click of the lock a short time later and turned to see Luke emerging from the bathroom, a cloud of steam escaping behind him. He was dressed in a pair of sweats, a t-shirt draped over one arm and his chest and arms covered with splotches of the pink lotion.

"Feeling okay?"

"Yeah, shower was a good idea thanks," Luke murmured, combing his hands through his damp hair. "It's funny; it makes you itchy all over but it feels good at the same time."

"Rory said the same thing about the bath. We ran a few cool ones too because the warm ones seemed to trigger the itching a little more."

"Thanks for the tip. I'll have to give cold water a try," he nodded. Noticing the neatly stacked dishes, he added, "Oh, you didn't need to clean up. I would have done that."

"Well it was either that or cook you some mashed potatoes and I think we both know how that would have turned out," Lorelai smirked.

"In that case, good decision. Thanks."

"Speaking of food, have you eaten dinner yet?" she inquired, eager to look out for him, but also using the question as a means of prolonging their idle chit-chat. Tackling more serious topics wasn't her forte.

"Yeah, I had Caesar bring me up something light a little earlier. I can understand how Rory didn't have much of an appetite in those first few days."

"Not so hungry, huh? Hopefully it'll blow over soon," Lorelai sympathized. "Alright Burger Boy, hand me that Calamine."

"Where do you want to do it?" he asked, casting his eyes around the room.

"Ha! Dirty!"

Rolling his eyes, Luke didn't bother to dignify her comment with a reply, instead walking into the bathroom to collect the bottle of lotion and bag of cotton balls.

"You know you don't have to do this right? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," he grumbled dropping the items onto his duvet and taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I know. I promise I'll let you go back to your he-man ways just as soon as I'm done," Lorelai teased, climbing onto the bed behind him and perching on her knees. "All I'm asking is for you to sit still for five minutes so I can take care of you. It may come as a shock to you but this is what friends do Luke."

"Girlfriends," Luke grunted, causing Lorelai to stiffen as she reached for the cotton balls.

Recovering quickly, she busied herself pouring the pink lotion onto a cotton bud and casually uttered, "That's ah…quite the label you're bandying about there tiger."

"Thought I'd test it out. See how it rolled off the tongue," he said, shrugging.

"And how'd that work out for you?" she asked, a strange flutter of nervousness rising in her gut.

"Well you don't seem to be making a break for the front door, so all in all, I'd say pretty well."

"Window's closer," she tsked. "I can be across the room and out the other side in four seconds flat."

"Good to know. It's a long way down though."

"Pfft. Piece of cake. You forget I was a regular Houdini when it came to escaping my parents' house. Two floors is nothing."

"In that case, I'm sealing it shut tomorrow," Luke grunted.

He tensed when she dabbed the cotton ball against one of his spots, a shiver running down his spine.

"Sorry, is it cold?" she asked.

"No, it's fine," he mumbled, allowing her to continue coating the red spots across his back. "You know this isn't how I saw this going."

"Huh?"

"You. Me. This," he grunted. "I at least thought I'd be in a position to take you on a proper date if you ever agreed to give us a try. Funny, but anytime I pictured it I was never covered in blisters or confined to the apartment."

"Really? 'Cos last I heard, suspicious bodily rashes really lured in the ladies," Lorelai smirked.

"Well I suppose it could be worse. It's not every day I have a pretty girl in my apartment – much less have her take care of me while I sit half naked beside her on my bed."

"Most guys wouldn't see that as a problem," Lorelai laughed, dousing another cotton ball in lotion and tending to a cluster of spots marking his back.

"Yeah, it's the fact I look like death warmed up that kinda puts a damper on the whole thing. Not exactly how I would have wanted this particular girl to see me given the choice."

"You never know. She might have a fetish for polka dots," Lorelai offered, continuing with her task.

"Yeah?"

"Might. Probably not likely," she teased, surveying his muscular back for any spots she may have missed and disposing of the used cotton balls in the bag Luke had set aside.

"Ah well, you win some, you lose some I guess."

"You know, she might not mind at all," Lorelai whispered, resting her chin atop his shoulder.

"You think?"

"Yeah. She seems like a good sort."

"I think so," he murmured, reaching behind him to grab her hand and lacing her fingers with his.

"So…er…girlfriend, huh?"

"Sounds about right to me," Luke affirmed.

"Ugh. It's like we're in eighth grade," Lorelai groaned.

"Wanna go steady with me?" Luke teased, turning his head to look at her and laughing when she scrunched up her nose in disgust. "We can hold hands at Chrissy Morgan's roller rink party."

"Well when you put it like that, how can a girl refuse?"

"I thought you'd see it my way."

"Girlfriend," Lorelai repeated, testing the word on her tongue.

"Girlfriend," Luke echoed, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips. "I'm having a hard time believing this particular girl has somehow gotten suckered into my web. Girls like her don't go for guys like me."

"They don't?"

"She's unbelievably gorgeous," he explained. "Intelligent. Charismatic. Witty," he added, punctuating his words with soft kisses to the back of her hand.

"Don't forget sexy" she said, a teasing glint in her eye.

"Definitely sexy," he chuckled. "Modest too."

"She sounds like quite a catch."

"You have no idea."

"Well, you must be doing something right to land a girl like her," Lorelai casually pointed out.

"Yeah. Or maybe it's just that she's not that bright after all," he teased.

"Hey!" Lorelai gasped, pulling back and swatting at his arm playfully as she feigned outrage.

Returning her chin to his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind now that the patches of lotion had dried, she murmured, "I should probably head back downstairs to Rory. You going to be okay?"

"Yeah," he grunted. "You planning on telling her about us?"

"I think she'll work it out eventually," Lorelai laughed. "Do you mind if it doesn't happen right away? I want to find the right moment to bring it up."

"Of course. Whatever you want."

"Could we…umm…would it be okay if…I mean, Rory aside, could we maybe keep this between us for now?" Lorelai asked tentatively.

Twisting in her embrace, Luke studied her face closely. "You don't want anyone to know?"

"I just…this is new, you know? And it's big; like, _really_ big. I don't know what I'm doing," she confessed.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Luke asked worriedly.

"No!" she exclaimed, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "It's just…I don't want to screw this up Luke. It's going to take some time for me to work out how to do this – how to be in this. It's been Rory and I alone for so long that I think I just need to get my head around the idea of letting someone else in. I want this, really, I do. And maybe it's selfish or just plain crazy but there's this part of me that just wants it to be us. No prying eyes, no town gossips watching our every move, no added pressure. Just us."

"It's not selfish and it's definitely not crazy," he whispered, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"Really?"

"Really. I get it. If that's what you want, then we'll keep this on the down low for now."

"You don't mind?"

"I'm gutted that my personal affairs won't make the daily gossip mill; truly, I am," he snorted. "We'll keep it between us and look for the right moment to tell Rory. The rest can come later, okay?"

"Okay," Lorelai whispered. "Thank you."

"Welcome," he murmured, pecking a soft kiss to her lips. "Go on. You better go save Rory from Babette and Miss Patty."

-o-


	9. Chapter 9

It was bad.

Not just a little troublesome, but code red, call-in-the-cavalry, Hiroshima-and-Chernobyl-combined kind of bad. At least as far as Rory was concerned.

She had picked up on the subtle changes in her mother's behavior; nothing overtly obvious, but noticeable nonetheless.

Normally, Lorelai would rattle off every excuse imaginable to avoid getting up to answer the phone when it rang mid-movie marathon. House rules dictated that whoever was closest was burdened with the task, but over the past few days she had eagerly snatched up the receiver before the third ring, even when Rory was clearly in closer range.

Then there was the daydreaming, the extended time spent in front of the mirror primping before they left the house and the slightly more fitted clothing ensembles.

The signs were so subtle that Rory probably wouldn't have detected a thing had it not been for the tip-off she'd received from Lane. When they'd finally had a chance to catch up after Rory's chicken-pox-imposed quarantine, her best friend had dropped a bombshell that left her reeling: Lorelai had gone on a date with Connor's dad, Lincoln.

It wasn't that Rory disliked Connor. He was always friendly at school and he didn't tease her for being a teacher's pet like some of the other boys in her grade did. The problem was simply that Rory had her heart set on her mom and Luke getting together.

She'd pressed Lane for details regarding the date, but she didn't have a lot to go on. Her mom and Lincoln had gone out to lunch together during school hours, which is why Rory hadn't been aware of it at the time. It had happened before Rory had come down with the chicken pox and they had gone to a fancy restaurant in Hartford.

Lane had grilled Connor for information at school before summer vacation commenced, but their classmate didn't have any further details; didn't know how the date had gone or whether they were still seeing each other.

Much to her dismay, Rory supposed they must still be dating. There was no other logical reason for her mom's slightly atypical behavior of late, she reasoned.

Her only comfort was that the bout of chicken pox had confined Lorelai to the house for the duration of the illness. She was confident her mom had not gone on any dates during that time period. Preventing her from doing so now was a whole other ballgame.

Staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom, Rory sighed dejectedly. More than anything, she wanted her mom to be happy. She wanted them to be a real family. She wanted Luke to be her step-dad.

Thinking back over her conversation with Lane from earlier in the day, she felt the unsettling twinge of guilt flutter in her stomach. Doing her best to push it aside, Rory reminded herself that she had her mom's best interests at heart.

If she had to act needy and stop her mom from going on another date with Lincoln, then so be it. She was going to do everything within her power to bring Lorelai and Luke together.

With Lane's help, Operation Coffee and Carrot Sticks was officially in motion.

-o-

"Hey you," Lorelai greeted animatedly, flopping back against her pillows as she held the receiver to her ear.

"Hey," Luke grunted, his demeanor brightening at the sound of her voice.

"How you feeling pocky?"

"Getting there," Luke acknowledged. "Fever's gone completely and the headaches seem to have passed so I'm just itchy more than anything now."

"Ah well, I hear crabs is an easy fix so don't let it get you down sport. Nothing some ointment or a razor can't fix," she teased, prompting him to scowl down the phone line. "So are you still breaking out in spots?"

"Yeah, got more today. Hopefully that's the last of them. To be honest, I don't think it's possible for them to spread any further."

"Oh?"

"They're in my mouth and down my throat," he grumbled. "I didn't even know that could happen."

"Oh, poor baby," Lorelai cooed, feeling terrible for indirectly placing him in this predicament. "I'm so sorry. I've heard chicken pox is usually worse for adults than kids, but the mouth thing sounds horrible. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"You," he murmured sulkily. "You're a good distraction."

Lorelai felt her lips tug up at the sides at his words, still coming to grips with the fact that this beautiful, genuine, no-nonsense man could possibly crave her company.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it by today," she apologized sincerely, her fingertips trailing softly over the worn quilt cover blanketing her bed. "I was struggling to get away from work and by the time I finally left, I couldn't bring myself to keep Rory out any longer. The poor kid had to spend the entire day at the inn while I worked and she was beyond ready to get home by the end of my shift."

"I get it. I don't expect you to drop by every day. I'm just being grumpy because I'm not good at sitting around doing nothing," he confessed grimly.

"Well allow me to give you some pointers young grasshopper," Lorelai enthused. "Did I mention I'm a fabulous lady of leisure? I've got four words for you: _I Love Lucy_ marathon."

Luke couldn't help the groan that escaped him. "Thanks for the tip but I'd prefer to poke my eyes out with a fork."

"Hey, don't knock it until you try it," Lorelai admonished. "Well, even if _I Love Lucy_ isn't your thing, look on the bright side. You have an excuse to stay in your pajamas all day and catch up on all the daytime soaps. Surely Ridge Forrester has got to be onto wife number six by now."

"Who?"

"Honestly Luke, have you been hiding under a rock for the last decade? You don't know what you're missing. The mocking potential is endless."

"I'll take your word for it," he retorted dryly.

Carving out a comfortable spot on the bed, Lorelai asked, "So how's the diner going without its fearless leader? Everything running okay?"

"The guys are handling everything well but the rostering's a mess," Luke admitted with a sigh. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to temper the headache that reared each time he contemplated his staffing dilemma. "With me out of the equation and Caesar studying, we just don't have the manpower to cover all the shifts."

Lorelai clucked sympathetically. "Have you been able to get some of your casuals in to help out?"

"Yeah, I've called them in for a couple of shifts but they all have kids and can only work limited hours so it's still a bit of a struggle. It sucks knowing the guys downstairs are understaffed and there's nothing I can do to help while I'm still contagious. The health department would have my head if I stepped foot in there at the moment."

"Oh Luke, that's tough," Lorelai empathized, well aware of how challenging it could be when staff members were off sick.

"It's my own fault," he admitted, shaking his head critically. "I've been meaning to hire an extra set of hands for a while now and kept getting busy and putting it off. Aaron and Caesar are doing a great job, but there are only so many hours they can spend there."

"That's too bad. Is there anything I can do to help?" Lorelai asked hopefully. Despite his claims to the contrary, she still felt responsible for Luke's condition and desperately wanted to reciprocate the immense kindness he had bestowed on them during Rory's bout of chicken pox.

"Thanks for the offer, but I've just got to ride it out. I'm thinking I'll close early a couple of days this week. Caesar's studying so Tuesday and Thursday night are out for him. My casuals aren't available then to cover him and the dinner rush will be too busy for Aaron to handle by himself so it makes more sense to just close up."

"Won't Taylor do his nut?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?"

"Beats me. Everybody seems to be jumping on the Scientology bandwagon these days," Lorelai shrugged.

Rolling his eyes despite knowing she couldn't see the action down the phone line, Luke added, "Safe to say Taylor will lose it completely. I can't wait to hear how many town ordinances I'll have violated," he scoffed, sarcasm dripping from each word.

"Ohhh promise me you'll call me when he comes by! I definitely want front row seats to that showdown. Heads will roll. Cardigans will fly. Town festivals will be created!"

"The only festival I'll be endorsing is the 'Taylor can kiss my ass' event. I'd even be willing to make it an annual affair," Luke deadpanned.

"Wow, you're really taking the traditional kissing booth to a whole new level Danes."

"I'm nothing if not innovative."

Twirling the phone cord around her finger, Lorelai laughed appreciatively before changing the subject and asking, "So Burger Boy, how long until I get to experience the patented Luke Danes night of romance?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well if I've got to carry around this girlfriend title, you can bet your ass I'm going to cash in on all the wining and dining. Where are you planning on taking me to woo me with your masculine charm?"

"Who says I'm taking you anywhere?" Luke said pointedly, enjoying baiting her.

"Oh come on Luke. A handsome bachelor like you must have a signature spot to take the ladies. The lookout at the top of Elm Street? A secluded fishing spot down by the lake? No wait, a juice bar followed by the batting cages would be much more your style, right?"

Luke snorted, amused at the thought of Lorelai kitted out in sporting gear and desperately trying to avoid a baseball flying toward her at 80 miles per hour.

"I'll let you off the hook there Slugger. You might be an Olympic-level coffee drinker but God knows your athletic abilities leave a lot to be desired."

"Hey, that's not nice," Lorelai whined petulantly. Despite not being able to see her, Luke knew instinctively that her lower lip protruded in that maddeningly frustrating yet undeniably adorable signature pout.

"Quit pouting," he groused gruffly.

"I wasn't pouting," she objected in mock defense.

"Oh yeah? Quit lying," he countered, a laugh involuntarily escaping his throat. The deep rumble sent a flutter of warmth down Lorelai's spine, not that she'd give him the satisfaction of admitting that when he was teasing her.

"Crank."

"Drama queen."

A smile gracing her lips, Lorelai readjusted her position on the bed, sinking down further into her pillows contentedly.

"Rats. Well if that cute diner guy's not taking me out I guess I'll just have to settle for spending time with all my other boyfriends instead. It's a shame; I was really hoping this one would be a keeper," she shrugged, finishing the sentence with a pointed sigh for dramatic effect.

"I wouldn't write him off just yet."

"No?"

"I heard he had a little something planned for Saturday night. By the time the weekend rolls around he shouldn't be contagious anymore."

"Really? 'Cos I heard herpes is pretty tough to kick."

"I walked right into that one, didn't I?" Luke groaned.

"So Saturday night?"

"Saturday night," he confirmed. "As long as that works for you. How's 7 O'clock?"

"Perfect. I'll just need to check I can get a sitter for Rory but I can't see it being a problem. I'll meet you at the diner?"

"Probably the safest bet if we want to avoid Babette's gossip radar," Luke conceded.

"A real date, huh?" Lorelai said, a sense of both excitement and nervousness washing over her.

"About time," Luke grunted, the warmth in his tone belying his feigned gruffness.

Settling the phone between his shoulder and ear, he begrudgingly said, "You've got work tomorrow. I suppose I should get going so you can get some sleep. Rory already down?"

"Yeah, she went to bed about an hour ago," Lorelai confirmed. "Must have been tuckered out from running around the inn all day."

"Caterpillar hunting will do that to the best of us," he smirked, cognizant of the fact that as was often the case when Rory visited the inn of late, much of her day would have been spent out in the garden. "Alright, well I'll let you get to bed. Thanks for calling to check in."

"Anytime Burger Boy. I'll stop by at some point tomorrow if that suits?"

"Sounds great, but only if it's not going to put you out, okay?"

"I'll be there."

"Okay, talk to you then. Night Lorelai."

"Night Burger Boy. Sweet dreams."

-o-

Luke's eyelids twitched in sleep and he instinctively retracted his foot from its position on the end of the couch, prompting Lorelai to stifle the laughter that threatened to spill from her mouth.

A mischievous grin plastered across her face, Lorelai took a step closer to him in the lounge room of his apartment, extending her arm once again to tickle his foot with the paintbrush she clasped in her right hand.

His toes flexed involuntarily at the touch and his brow furrowed as he mumbled, "Boots. Wher'my booss?"

Suppressing yet another giggle, Lorelai paused to take in his muscular frame, her eyes raking over his pock-marked skin. The angry red blemishes flared menacingly, and she noticed multiple spots had clustered together, each blotch looking fierce and inflamed.

The wave of sympathy that washed over her triggered her protective instincts and was almost enough to halt her tickle attack. Almost, but not quite.

Reasoning that Luke could sleep at any time and had already admitted he was craving her company, Lorelai hovered above his prone form for just a moment longer before lowering the tip of the paintbrush beneath his chin and tickling him lightly.

Waking with a start, Luke opened his eyes, blinking repeatedly against the mid-morning light as Lorelai's frame slowly came into focus. He immediately frowned, asking gruffly, "Were you tickling me?"

"Don't know what you're talking about," she snickered, promptly moving the paintbrush out of sight.

"You were," he insisted, his eyes narrowed as he made to sit up.

"No, stay," she said, halting his movement mid-shift. Dropping down on the couch where his head had rested moments before, Lorelai gently tugged on his shoulders, drawing his head down onto her lap so he could continue lying on his back.

"No tickling," he grumbled crankily, but Lorelai could clearly see the hint of a smile hiding behind his gruff exterior.

"You must have been dreaming," Lorelai teased. "I was simply standing here minding my own business while I waited for you to wake up."

"Yeah right. Like you can stay still and behave yourself for longer than two minutes. What's behind your back?"

"Huh? I've got no idea what you're on about. I'll give you a minute to wake up. You seem disoriented," she tormented, refusing to answer his question.

"Lorelai," he growled, twisting his head to try and identify her weapon of attack.

"Always so inquisitive," Lorelai tutted, drawing the long, thin paintbrush from behind her back and tapping it on the end of his nose.

"What's that?" he asked, confusion evident in his features.

"It's a paintbrush," she explained easily.

"I see that. What's it for?"

"Thought you might be interested in doing a spot of painting seeing as you're so bored and all. Good opportunity to get the creative juices flowing. I've got the paint and easel out in the Jeep for you."

"Oh, er…" Luke began awkwardly, surprised that she would think it a likely activity for him to partake in.

"Relax Picasso, I'm kidding," she giggled, her blue eyes dancing with laughter.

"Ah geez," Luke scowled. "What's it really for?"

"Scratchin' an itch."

"Sorry?"

"For your chicken pox. Dr Heath suggested I buy one for Rory when she was sick to stop her scratching her spots with her nails, so I thought I'd get one for you too. The brushes with the really soft bristles are good because they help with the itching but don't break the skin. See? Nice and soft," she added, trailing the brush over his cheek.

Luke closed his eyes as she moved the brush around the contours of his face, lightly running it between his eyebrows and the bridge of his nose.

"Tickles," he murmured contentedly, making no move to get away.

"Oh, well I heard someone mention a minute ago that this is a tickle-free zone, so I guess I better stop," Lorelai quipped, drawing the paintbrush away from his face.

"Since when do you ever play by the rules?" Luke growled, disappointed at the loss of the sensation. "You're meant to be nice to sick people you know."

"Really? Oh wait, now that you mention it, I think I do recall receiving that memo," Lorelai affirmed, one finger resting against her chin as if deep in thought. "Lift up for a minute," she added, tapping his arm lightly so she could rise from the couch once again.

He obliged, watching the jaunt of her hips as she flounced across the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Grabbing something for my pocky friend. You're meant to be nice to sick people you know," she repeated, a smirk gracing her features. Reaching the dining table, she collected the two paper cups she'd placed there upon entering the apartment, drawing the supersize one to her mouth and taking a long sip from the straw.

Resuming her spot on the couch, she offered Luke the regular-size cup with a smile.

"What is it?" he asked, eyeing the cup warily.

"A smoothie. I figured it might be hard to eat solid food with the spots in your mouth and throat. This should be easy to swallow and hopefully the cold will numb the blisters."

"What's in it?" he queried skeptically, convinced it must be laden with chocolate and syrup if she was willingly drinking one.

"I don't know. All kinds of fruit. Some frozen yogurt. Caesar lost me at banana," she shrugged, turning one palm upwards to indicate her uncertainty.

"And you're drinking one?" Luke asked incredulously.

"Pfft. What do you take me for? A gym bunny? I've got a Choc Norris thank you very much."

"A what?"

"A Choc Norris. It's a Lorelai original." At his quizzical look, Lorelai added, "You know, like Chuck Norris, but with chocolate. It's the mother of all smoothies."

Luke's blank stare told her she may as well have spoken Russian for the amount he understood.

"Chuck Norris. Total badass. Think _Way of the Dragon;_ _Walker_ , _Texas Ranger; Lone Wolf McQuade_ …any bells ringing there tiger?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"This from someone who's supposedly into sports. We really need to do something about your movie education. I can't believe you never saw the fight scenes with Bruce Lee. You're missing out; they're epic."

"I'll take your word for it." Taking a sip, Luke nodded approvingly. "Tastes good, thank you."

Making sure to keep her facial expression neutral, Lorelai added nonchalantly, "I'm glad you think so, because I was chatting to Caesar earlier and he's going to make both smoothies a permanent addition to the menu."

"He _what_?"

"Just a little spruce to keep things interesting. Yours is for the health freaks and mine is for the sugar fiends. Kind of got this whole yin and yang thing going on."

Lorelai could barely contain her laughter upon sighting the vein pulsing in Luke's forehead.

"Caesar isn't sprucing anything."

"Aw c'mon Luke. It's just a minor addition."

"No. No menu changes. No smoothies. No drinks named after celebrities I've never heard of. And most importantly, no putting ideas in Caesar's head. Do I make myself clear?" Luke growled. "I refuse to serve something called a Chuck Norris in my diner."

"Actually it's a _Choc_ Norris."

"Whatever," Luke grumbled, throwing one hand up in exasperation. "Diabetes in a cup would be a more apt name for that monstrosity," he added, eyeing her as she struggled to suck whipped cream up the straw.

"That's a matter of opinion."

"No menu spruce. I'm serious Lorelai."

"So was Michael Jackson when it came to plastic surgery and we all saw how that worked out," she added with a knowing look, one eyebrow raised teasingly.

Luke simply scowled, swallowing another sip of his smoothie.

"So where's Rory today?" he asked, desperate to distract her from messing with his menu.

"With Mrs Kim. We've decided to alternate minding the girls on some week days during summer vacation so they have each other to keep them entertained and we have a few kid-free work days. She'll have them at the antique store today and they'll come to the inn with me tomorrow."

Nodding, Luke replied, "Rory must be over the moon to be out and about again and able to see Lane."

"Yeah, she really missed her when she was sick. Although it's funny; she didn't seem too thrilled about going over to play today. She kept begging me to stay with her."

"Mrs Kim serving tofu for lunch?"

"Probably," Lorelai snorted. "Although Rory knows I always slip contraband snacks in her backpack so normally it doesn't worry her."

"She and Lane have a fight or something?"

"Hmm…I don't think so, but there's a first time for everything I suppose. I got the impression her hesitation was less about not wanting to hang out with Lane and more about not wanting me to leave her side."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it was strange. She was much more clingy than usual and kept asking me where I was going and how long I'd be. She knows it's a normal work day for me but she was asking if I was going to see anyone or do anything outside my shift or on my lunch break. I swear, it was like the Spanish Inquisition."

"You think she's cottoned on to us being together?"

Lorelai pondered for a moment before answering, "No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure she'd have said something if she had."

"Unless she wasn't happy about it," Luke murmured.

"She adores you Luke. You know that," Lorelai countered, trailing her fingers through his hair lightly.

"Did you tell her you were coming here?"

"Yeah, she actually seemed to calm down at that. And once I told her I would head straight from work to collect her, she seemed happy enough."

"Maybe she's just getting used to not having you around as much. I mean, she was with you 24/7 when she had the chicken pox so maybe it's just taking her a little time to adjust back to normal."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Lorelai agreed, shrugging.

"So will I see you two later tonight?"

"Ah…no, sorry. I've er…gotta see a man about a dog tonight," she said evasively. "Rory and I are pretty tied up. But tomorrow we're all yours after my shift finishes."

"Okay, maybe we can have dinner here or something?"

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, fingering the soft stubble that coated his jaw.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a time, content to simply be in one another's presence. Lorelai soon broke the quiet to regale him with the latest anecdotes from the Independence Inn, her delighted laughter echoing around the small apartment as she recounted how Sookie had accidentally locked the new line chef in the cool room.

Staring up at Lorelai from his position in her lap, Luke basked in her bright smile, enjoying tracing shapes on her palm as she nattered away. Too soon, the clock signaled it was time for Lorelai to leave for work and it struck Luke that as much as he had always appreciated the quiet of his apartment, perhaps the lively hum of her relentless chatter was what it had been missing all along.

-o-

Luke was over it.

Over being confined to his apartment all day; over the overwhelming need to scratch the pock-marks lining his body; over having to sit idly by as his staff members worked frantically in his absence.

With Lorelai having stopped by to visit him in the morning and advising she would be busy after work, he didn't even have the promise of a second visit to get him through the remainder of the evening. He was going stir crazy and he desperately needed to get out.

Pacing the floors of his kitchen and living room restlessly, Luke scowled at the realization that only two minutes had passed since the last time he'd checked his watch. Forcing himself to resume the now well-worn seat on his couch, he switched on the television, aimlessly flicking through infomercials and mindless dramas that did nothing to capture his attention.

Flinging the remote down on the cushions, Luke sighed and willed himself to think up an activity to combat the unwavering boredom. His gaze settled on the waning evening light filtering in through the window, prompting a sudden urge to go outside and gulp in the fresh air.

Reasoning that a brief expedition to the back alley wouldn't pose any health risks to diner patrons, he hastily pulled an unbuttoned flannel over his cotton t-shirt and rushed down the wooden steps. He had just clasped his hand around the door handle and braced himself for his first taste of freedom in days when the sound of a feminine voice pulled him up short.

Her voice.

Pausing to make sure he had heard correctly, Luke cocked his head toward the diner and listened intently.

"Aaron, hit me with one yellow blanket on a dead cow. Easy on the axle grease. Also, a side of Joan of Arc and a frosty Joe."

His brow furrowed in confusion, Luke had to pinch himself to make sure he was indeed awake and confirm this wasn't some sort of bizarre dream. Granted, a lot of what came tumbling out of Lorelai's mouth at a mile a minute indicated she was positively certifiable, but if he'd heard correctly, this was taking her normal level of crazy to new heights.

Drawing the curtain back a centimeter or two, Luke peered through the opening and watched on in bewilderment as Lorelai whipped around the diner, energetically thrusting two plates in front of customers seated at a table by the window. All the while, she kept up a steady stream of nonsense ramblings.

"Order up! One hockey puck and a butcher's revenge. Can I get you a top-up on the flowing Mississippi there Reverend?" she asked, turning to the table behind her and barely drawing breath as she gestured to Archie Skinner's near-empty mug. Filling the cup, she moved to another table and hastily scribbled on an order pad before making her way behind the counter.

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Luke vaguely recognized snippets of dialogue; old-school diner lingo, no doubt with some Gilmore-inspired embellishments to boot.

"Aaron, burn one, take it through the garden and pin a rose on it. Also, hit me with a splash of Diabetes in a cup to go, stat!"

 _Diabetes in a cup?_

He'd heard enough. Drawing the curtain back further but making sure to keep well clear of the service area, Luke growled, "Get the hell away from my counter Gilmore."

The gruff tone signaling his presence took Lorelai by surprise, and a flash of guilt crept over her cheeks before it was quickly replaced with a glorious, teasing smile.

"Employees have full access rights, don't you know?" she countered, her eyes twinkling as she gestured to the apron tied loosely around her waist and lifted the nearby coffee pot in mock salute.

"Precisely why you are _not_ an employee. My profits would cut in half if you were left unsupervised within a three-mile radius of the coffee supply."

"Please, give me some credit," Lorelai scoffed, tossing a dish towel over her shoulder. "Only half your profits? I'm singlehandedly keeping the diner afloat with my addiction."

"Well, they say admitting it is the first step to recovery."

Lorelai opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Luke jerking his head toward the curtain and barking, "Out here. Now."

Lorelai winked at Miss Patty mischievously as she put down the coffee pot and sauntered confidently behind the curtain to face Luke's reprimand.

Instead, she felt a strong arm snake around her waist the moment the curtain swung closed behind her, prompting her to smirk as her back hit the wall and his lips descended on hers in a demanding kiss.

"If I had have known that's what I'd get for hanging out behind the counter, I would have done it years ago," she quipped breathlessly, her hands coming to rest on his chest. "Do all your employees get this treatment or…"

"Lorelai," he chastised, cutting her off as he pressed another hard kiss to her lips.

"Luke! What's gotten into you?" she giggled, her head dropping down to the crook of his neck.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he sighed, his hands settling on her waist. "What did I tell you about messing with my menu? I was very clear that you weren't to put a damn chocolate smoothie on there and yet, somehow, Aaron's out there making one right now."

"Why Lucas, I believe your exact words were 'I refuse to serve something called a Chuck Norris in my diner. Diabetes in a cup would be a more apt name for that monstrosity'. I simply did as you asked and named it 'Diabetes in a cup'," she explained, her eyes wide as she feigned innocence.

"How convenient that you didn't hear the 'no menu spruce' comment," he grumbled. "You're impossible."

Fixing her with what he hoped was a stern glare, he added gruffly, "We'll continue that conversation later. More importantly, what the hell do you think you're doing behind my counter?"

"Apparently, getting molested by a hot diner owner," Lorelai teased, her eyebrows raised suggestively as her gaze swept over their close embrace and Luke's pock-marked skin. "I've gotta say, I never would have picked spots and plaid as a winning combination but you pull it off remarkably well Burger Boy."

Luke simply let out a strangled groan. "Don't start."

"Hey, you're the one who hauled me back here Bucko. You got a problem with it then you should really quit attacking innocent people in the stairwell."

"Innocent, yeah right," he snorted. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you said you had something you had to do tonight."

"I'll tell you a little secret," she said, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. "This is it."

"You came to hang out at the diner?"

"I came to cover the dinner shift with Aaron seeing as none of your other employees were available," she explained.

"Seriously? You didn't have to do that. The plan was just to have Aaron close early."

"And risk the wrath of Taylor?" she challenged.

"I can handle Taylor," he muttered.

"I know you can but the dinner rush is one of your busiest times. It doesn't make sense to shut up shop. You might as well just watch your profits run down the drain."

"Like I said, they're going to anyway if you've got unrestricted access to the coffee pot," he grumbled, adding in an eye-roll for good measure.

Lorelai grinned broadly, her blue eyes dazzling him with their fervor as her hands tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck.

Touched by her thoughtfulness, he sighed, his hand giving her waist a gentle squeeze. "The staffing is my problem, not yours. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Like you would have let me go ahead with it," she replied pointedly, her eyebrow raised as if daring him to contradict her.

"Ah geez," he breathed, recognizing the truth to her words.

Preempting his thoughts, Lorelai leaned forward to rest her forehead against his and said, "Before you tell me it's not necessary and to go home, let me reiterate that I'm staying and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Lorelai," he grumbled, his voice low and husky. Enraptured by her luminous smile, he found himself drawing her closer once again, this time landing a soft kiss squarely on her lips. "Thank you."

Looking a little sheepish as he pulled away, Luke added, "Sorry, here I am looking like Frankenstein. I know I shouldn't kiss you when I'm all gross with chicken pox. I know you can't pass it on to anyone but still…"

"Never mind the fact my 10-year-old and the rest of the town are right behind that wall," she pointed out, her bright smile indicating she didn't mind at all.

"Rory's out there?"

"Well you didn't think I could be trusted to work the register alone did you?"

"You're making her _work_? Geez, Child Protective Services will have my ass. That's child labor!"

"Nah, we'll just tell 'em she's a midget if they start asking questions," Lorelai countered casually.

"Lorelai!"

"Oh relax Burger Boy. It's a one-off. And besides, it's not like she's officially on the books and you're paying her to work."

"You're right, slave labor makes it sound so much better," he scowled dryly.

"Come here; check out how cute she looks!" Lorelai encouraged, stepping out of his embrace and tugging on his hand. She drew back the curtain, revealing Rory standing on a chair by the cash register, a shy smile adorning her face.

Luke couldn't believe he hadn't noticed her there earlier. Then again, it was certainly nothing new that the rest of the world seemed to fade into oblivion when Lorelai Gilmore graced his line of vision.

They watched as Rory rang up the order of an elderly lady on the ancient register, carefully counting out the money handed to her and positioning it neatly in the drawer. The woman then drew an extra bill from her purse, placing it in Rory's tiny hand and smiling encouragingly as she praised her for her handiwork.

"Damn kid's cleaning up," Lorelai muttered, watching as her daughter added the bill to the nearby tip jar. "Seriously, we've only been here an hour and Aaron said she's already doubled the daily tip average."

"Figures," Luke grumbled, all-too-aware of the effect a pair of sparkling blue eyes could have on a person's willpower. "That face should be illegal."

"Don't I know it. So does that mean we can stay?"

"Would you listen to me if I told you to go home?" he mumbled, knowing the conversation was a lost cause.

"Not a chance," she grinned teasingly, allowing the curtain to swing closed again.

Groaning, he grabbed her around the waist once more and tugged on her pony tail teasingly.

"You're going to be the death of me Gilmore."

"That's if the 'Diabetes in a cup' doesn't get you first," she winked, first pecking a chaste kiss against his lips before proceeding to feather a series of light kisses across cheeks. "Did I mention they're practically flying out the door tonight?"

Refusing to let her bait him once again, he instead drew attention to her actions, commenting, "Wow, if I get spoiled with this many kisses when I look like a half-dead, red Dalmatian, imagine how many kisses I could get when I'm back to my handsome self."

"You keep up a steady supply of coffee at all hours of the day and I guarantee you'll soon find out."

Hearing Aaron's cry of "Order up!" from the kitchen, Lorelai gave a resigned sigh before indicating she needed to get back to the diner.

"Duty calls, I'm afraid."

Luke merely grunted, unwilling to release his hold on her so soon.

Resting her hands on his biceps, she added, "By the way, you might wanna try yelling a little bit more if we're gonna convince people that we're still just friends."

"I'm done yelling."

"Really? Well in that case, now's probably a good time to mention that the smoothie wasn't the only menu spruce today."

Carefully extricating herself from his arms before lifting the curtain so she was in full view of the diner's customers, she added, "I may or may not have introduced those chili-topped Pringles I've been begging you for for months now to the menu. You can thank me later."

Without waiting for his incensed response, Lorelai abruptly turned on her heel, disappearing through the curtain and snickering a moment later when she heard his infuriated bellow follow her across the diner.

-o-


	10. Chapter 10

It was finally happening.

According to Luke's calculations it had only taken the better part of two years, countless donuts and somewhere in the vicinity of 1,000 steaming cups of coffee for this day to arrive. The day he finally took Lorelai Gilmore on a date.

While they'd originally planned to go out the Saturday after his spots had healed, Rory had tearfully complained of a sore stomach and headache that evening, prompting Lorelai to cancel the sitter and regretfully postpone their date. Despite feeling the harsh sting of disappointment strike him when Lorelai had called to break the news, he had found it impossible to be annoyed with her blued-eyed mini-me; Luke knew Rory would always be Lorelai's first priority and if anything, he was just as concerned about her wellbeing.

Thankfully, they'd been able to reschedule to the following weekend, which allowed time for the red marks that had previously marred Luke's skin to fade significantly. Mia had graciously agreed to watch Rory, the older woman the only person Lorelai had confided in about her date with Luke. While Rory knew her mother was going on a date, Lorelai had deliberately been evasive when it came to providing details, wanting to find the right time to tell the 10-year-old about her budding relationship with their beloved diner man. She found her daughter was still being uncharacteristically clingy, so she'd resolved to wait until Rory was back to her usual calm and composed self before sharing the news.

Combing his hair back, Luke gave himself one last dubious glimpse in the mirror before tugging on his collar and settling his wallet in his back pocket. Checking his watch for what felt like the fiftieth time, he reminded himself that it was still too early to head downstairs to their agreed meeting place – the alley beside the diner where his truck was parked. Knowing Lorelai, she'd more-than-likely be 15 minutes late, so there was definitely no point to him arriving early or setting foot in the diner in the meantime. His smart attire and absence of flannel would only invite invasive questioning from his fellow Stars Hollow residents.

Moving about his apartment, Luke took a moment to wipe down the already sparkling kitchen counter, the familiar action somewhat of a nervous tic that had spawned from years of working in the diner. He forced himself to relax, leaning his weight back against the cupboards and purposefully putting a stop to the impatient tapping of his foot. As the minutes ticked by, Luke tried his best to ignore the nervous energy coursing through him and instead focus on the activities he had planned for the evening.

Despite Lorelai's endless questioning whenever they were out of earshot of her daughter and the other townies, he had refused to reveal where he was taking her. She had begged and cajoled, sweet-talked and battered her eyelids incessantly, but he had held strong and committed to keeping their destination a surprise. He was just grateful she hadn't thought to try the hair flick, the pout or the damn flippy skirt; for the sake of his own sanity and dignity, it was best she remained unaware of those particular weak spots for as long as possible.

He smirked when he recalled her latest attempt at wheedling the information out of him and the luminous smile that had graced her lips when he'd told her he was finally giving in to her pleas and revealing their itinerary. That beautiful, heart-stopping smile had quickly been replaced with a scowl when he'd advised they were off to a health food convention followed by a CA meeting – the coffee junkies' equivalent of Alcoholics Anonymous. For that, he probably deserved the handful of fries she'd thrown at his retreating back, he reasoned with a goofy grin.

Glancing at his watch once more, Luke finally gave himself permission to wander downstairs. He was just pulling the apartment door closed behind him when the shrill ringing of the phone prompted him to pause, his hand frozen on the doorknob. Figuring he didn't want to be delayed talking to whoever was on the other end of the line unless it was important, he allowed the call to go through to the answering machine, listening intently as the familiar beep echoed around the apartment.

His ears pricked up when he heard Lorelai's voice wafting from the speaker, her tone devoid of any of its usual enthusiasm.

"Luke? Are you there? If you're there, please pick up. It's Lorelai. I guess you must already be downsta…"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence before he quickly snapped up the receiver, pressing it to his ear insistently.

"Lorelai?"

"Luke, I'm glad I caught you."

"Is everything okay?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes. I mean…well, no, not really but it's nothing serious."

"Are you okay? Is Rory okay?" he pressed urgently.

"We're fine, Rory's just…" Lorelai trailed off. "Look Luke, I know after last time, this sounds an awful lot like I'm creating excuses but…"

"You're not coming," Luke murmured knowingly, the crushing surge of defeat striking deep within his abdomen.

"It's not…I mean, I don't….You know I want…" Lorelai sighed, realizing the words were coming out all wrong. "I'm not coming," she confirmed dejectedly.

Luke felt the air leave his chest as he desperately tried to formulate some form of response. Suddenly his apartment felt freakishly small and imposing, the walls bearing down on him.

Lorelai was the one to break the silence, her tone low and apologetic.

"Luke, are you there?"

"Yeah," he croaked, clearing his throat and doing his best to disguise the hurt in his voice.

"I'm so, so sorry. You know I've been looking forward to our date for weeks. The last thing I want to do is cancel but I unfortunately don't have much choice. Rory's just…I don't know what's wrong," she confessed, a note of alarm evident in her voice. "She was fine all day and then just as I was getting ready to leave she started panicking and crying."

"About you leaving?"

"I guess so. I'm thinking maybe the idea of me dating is what's freaking her out. This isn't like her at all; normally she jumps at the chance to spend time with Mia. She's just been so clingy these past couple of weeks and always wants to know where I am and who I'm with whenever I'm not by her side. I'm worried about leaving her tonight when she's so upset and I don't think it's fair of me to saddle Mia with an anxious, crying kid."

"Ah geez, I'm sorry," Luke breathed. "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do for you or Rory?"

Lorelai sighed, feeling the telltale signs of moisture forming in her eyes. She wasn't sure whether the sudden rush of emotion stemmed from his unwavering patience and benevolence, her disappointment at missing another date or simply the unexpected drama of the evening. Most likely a combination of all three. Regardless of the reason, she chastised herself for being so damn sensitive.

"I call to tell you I'm the worst girlfriend in the world and have to postpone our date yet again and _you're_ asking _me_ whether I'm alright?" Lorelai asked, her voice softening with affection.

"Yeah well," he murmured with a self-deprecating shrug. "Making sure you and Rory are okay is the most important thing."

At his words, Lorelai felt some of the stress dissipate from her shoulders.

"You're not mad?" she verified hesitantly, hyper-aware that her 10-year-old had now gotten in the way of not one but two dates. Experience had taught her most guys would have thrown in the towel by now and moved on to their next conquest.

"Disappointed that I won't get to spend the evening with you? Sure. But mad? No. Rory has to come first; I know that."

"I'm sorry," Lorelai reiterated, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Don't mention it."

They both took a moment to collect their thoughts, a comfortable silence settling between them. It was only then that the worrying thought struck Luke. What if this happened again and again? What if Rory panicked every time he attempted to take Lorelai on a date? God forbid, what if Lorelai decided that being together was placing too much pressure on Rory and called the whole thing off?

Luke gulped. He'd as good as answered his own question a few moments earlier. _Rory has to come first; I know that._

And he did know. In fact, he fully agreed with the sentiment. He also knew that he'd never love anyone like he loved Lorelai Gilmore – even if she didn't know it yet – and he'd do everything in his power to earn Rory's blessing and make the relationship work.

"Lorelai?"

"Yeah?"

"This is…I mean you're…we're rescheduling, right? Not cancelling. Rescheduling."

"Well yeah, that's what I was hoping. If it's okay with you," she added quickly, catching her lower lip between her teeth as the self-doubt she was generally so adept at hiding from others reared its familiar head. "I understand if…"

"No."

"No?"

"No, I don't want to cancel," he stated firmly.

"Well okay then," Lorelai replied, once again feeling the flutter of relief in her stomach and the beginnings of a smile take hold.

"Just…er…don't change your mind okay?" Luke pressed. "We'll find a way to make this work. I don't care if we have to postpone 50 dates. I mean, I'll care...obviously…but I'll wait, you know? However long it takes. I'll wait for you and Rory. The two of you…that's all I want. Please don't change your mind."

Lorelai did her best to hide her sniffle, the reality of his words sinking in. Here was a man who not only wanted to be with her, baggage and all, but viewed the Gilmore two-for-one package deal as a bonus rather than a burden. Here was a man who saw her, faults and all, and vowed to wait as long as it took to stand beside her. Here was a man who, monosyllables and all, could somehow make her feel truly valued and worthy of affection for the first time in her 27 years.

Drawing a deep breath and mustering more confidence than she felt, Lorelai blinked back the tears and murmured, "I'm not planning on changing my mind Luke."

She just hoped her daughter would come around.

-o-

"Fairy lights?"

"Check."

"Candles?"

"Check."

"Blanket?"

"Check."

"Mood music?"

"Check."

Rory set aside the pen and paper in her hand and watched as her best friend peeled back the cleverly disguised false bottom in her backpack, revealing a handful of CD cases that she had managed to smuggle past Mrs. Kim's watchful eyes.

"I couldn't bring too many because Mama would have noticed," Lane explained with a sigh. "I've still got a few good options to choose from though."

"Let's see them," Rory replied keenly, inching forward on the floor of the Independence Inn guestroom they were playing in to get a better view.

"Okay, first up, the Go-Go's."

"Hmm…perfect for mom but maybe a little too girly for Luke."

"Point taken," Lane agreed with a nod, setting the case aside. "Option two: INXS. Mostly upbeat with a little bit of saxophone thrown in here and there for good measure. Nothing screams date material like a saxophone."

"That could work. Let's put it on the shortlist."

"Option three: The Who."

"Wasn't their drummer the guy that used to impersonate Robert Newton? You know…that actor that played Blackbeard and Long John Silver?"

At Lane's shrug, Rory added decidedly, "No pirates. I feel like Luke would draw the line at people that dress up like pirates."

"Okay, lucky last then. I think this might be the one," Lane stated, drawing the final CD from her bag. "U2 – The Joshua Tree. It's a classic. Plenty of quality ballads with a rocky twist, and best of all, there's some lovey dovey stuff without being too obvious. Honestly, who can say they don't like U2? It's the perfect date soundtrack."

"I think we have our winner."

"Great!" Lane exclaimed, opening the case and walking across the room to insert it into the CD player they'd picked up on their earlier reconnaissance mission to the storeroom. "Now for the best part. You won't believe what I managed to get hold of."

"There's more?" Rory asked incredulously. "You already risked being forced to write out psalms for an hour by bringing the CDs."

"This was too good of an opportunity to pass up," Lane exclaimed gleefully, bouncing on the soles of her feet before resuming her position on the carpet beside her best friend and producing a large glass bottle from the depths of her backpack.

"You got _wine_?"

"Well, technically it's sparkling grape juice like the stuff Ashley had at her birthday party but it _looks_ like wine so maybe your mom and Luke won't notice the difference."

Rory's delighted grin lit up her entire face and she could have danced with joy.

"Oh Lane this is perfect! Thank you! Where did you get it?"

"Papa's work colleague came around for dinner and brought it as a gift because he knew my parents don't drink alcohol. I had to run interference so it didn't make the trash can when Mama decided to throw it away later. She says sugary drinks, rock music and red meat are the devil's gateway."

"Gateway to what?" Rory asked, puzzled.

"I don't know. Hard drugs; Farrah Fawcett hair; a career as a Bee Gee," Lane shrugged.

"How on Earth did you get it out of the house today without your mom noticing?"

"Er…best you don't ask that question," Lane advised knowingly. "Let's just say I'd highly recommend giving the bottle a good wash before use."

"Uh…got it," Rory agreed awkwardly, her face wrinkling in a concerned grimace as she decided against taking a closer look at the bottle and hastily withdrew her outstretched hand.

"So that just leaves the food run and then we've got everything we need to set this plan in motion."

"Yeah, we definitely need more food," Rory agreed, thinking back over the motley assortment of Slim Jims, carrots and cheese puffs they'd assembled so far.

Glancing at her friend apprehensively, Rory felt the familiar twinge of guilt flare deep in the pit of her stomach.

"Hey Lane, do you think we're doing the right thing?" she asked quietly, her voice cracking slightly.

"You want your mom and Luke to be happy, right?"

"Yes."

"And you think they'll make each other happy, right?"

Yes."

"Then it's like you say; we're just giving them a push in the right direction. It's not like we're doing something mean. We're just helping them see what's right in front of their eyes."

"I guess," Rory agreed slowly, her teeth tugging on her lower lip nervously.

"What's the worst that can happen? The date goes badly, they figure out we were behind it and we get grounded for a few days."

"Oh my god. What if I'm not allowed to go to school?" Rory panicked, her face flooding with dread.

Lane simply rolled her eyes. "Only you would be worried about missing class. Don't stress. School is about the only thing you _are_ allowed to go to when you're grounded. And church if you're me. Anyway, you're forgetting it's summer vacation at the moment so there's no school to miss."

Exhaling a sigh of relief and fueled by Lane's blasé attitude, Rory allowed a shy grin to creep onto her lips. "I don't think I've ever been grounded before."

"Piece of cake, but I'm sure you won't have anything to worry about anyway. This is going to work."

"I hope so," Rory confessed. "I don't think I can get my mom to cancel another date with Connor's dad. She's already missed two date nights and I don't think she'll believe me if I fake sick again. I'm running out of ways to stop her from going out with him."

"Well, we'll just have to give this our all, hope she's not too hung up on Connor's dad and keep our fingers crossed that all goes well with her and Luke."

"Yeah, I guess so. Come on, let's go and get the last of the food while Mom's busy working in the office. Try to look hungry."

Checking to make sure the coast was clear in the hallway outside the guestroom, the two pre-teens scampered down toward the kitchen in pursuit of Sookie's delicious cooking.

"Hey kitten," Sookie greeted, catching sight of Rory as she pushed through the kitchen doors. "You girls having a good day?"

Rory nodded shyly, smiling as Lane's shiny black mane materialized beside her.

"Thanks for the cream puffs earlier Sookie. They were delicious. I could eat them all day long."

"Like mother, like daughter," Sookie giggled, continuing to hand beat the bowl of eggs clasped in her hand. "There are plenty more desserts where those came from so help yourselves to the tray over there girls."

 _Hook, line and sinker_ , Lane thought as both girls thanked her politely and prepared to select some treats for their mission. Convincing Sookie to shower them with goodies was always going to be the easiest part of their quest; the chef was constantly on the look-out for willing participants to taste-test her creations.

"So what are you two planning on getting up to for the rest of the afternoon?"

 _Think quick._

"Er…we're umm…" Rory trailed off awkwardly, her eyes pleading for Lane to think up a suitable answer. Lying wasn't her strong point.

"We're thinking of having a tea party," Lane answered confidently. "Mia is letting us hang out in Room 14 so we thought it would be cool to have a tea party before the cleaners arrive to tidy up after last night's guests."

"Ooooh, fun!" Sookie exclaimed. "Well you'll have to take some of the caramelized onion and goat cheese tarts I just made. And some vol-au-vents. And…oh why don't I just make you up a plate?"

Bustling about the kitchen, Sookie began loading a selection of finger food onto a plate, the tarts wobbling precariously atop the mountain of food. Passing the platter to Rory carefully, Sookie urged them not to leave before she could dish them up a generous serving of pie and pour them a thermos of tea. Rory's eyes lit up jubilantly on seeing the thermos, the young girl fast realizing she could use the guestroom's tea and coffee facilities to brew some coffee for her mother and have it stay warm. She'd watched Lorelai prepare a pot often enough at home to have mastered the steps.

Their arms laden with enough food to feed an army, the 10-year-olds thanked Sookie profusely and hurried back up the stairs to the guestroom. Ensconced in sorting through their loot, both girls froze when they heard a soft knock at the door followed by Lorelai's cheery voice.

Her eyes widening, Rory urgently whispered for Lane to hide what she could before heading toward the door and opening it just a crack.

"Hey Mom," she greeted in the most nonchalant manner she could muster.

"Hey kid, just thought I'd check in. Whatya up to?"

"Oh…er…Lane and I are just about to have a tea party," Rory explained, hoping with all her might that her mother wouldn't question the activity. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a tea party.

"Oh, nice one. You girls need anything?"

"No, we're fine thanks," Rory answered a little too quickly.

Noticing her daughter's nervous disposition, Lorelai narrowed her eyes, asking, "Everything okay babe?"

"Yep, everything's great."

"Can I check out your tea party set-up? Mommy's jealous. Well, not of the tea bit but the party sounds fun."

Unsure of how much evidence Lane had been able to shift from Lorelai's line of vision, Rory said, "Er…well, it's not actually ready to go yet. We just got the tea from Sookie."

Her suspicion increasing, Lorelai accepted Rory's explanation but added, "Ah, I see. Oh well, I might just say a quick hello to Lane before I head back downstairs."

Rory felt her heart rate began to quicken but calmed considerably when she heard Lane call, "Come on in Lorelai. I'm just getting everything set up."

Stepping back from the doorway, Rory allowed her mother to enter and breathed an inaudible sigh of relief when she noticed Lane had been successful with her mission. The girl sat perched at the table with the thermos and two mugs in front of her.

Lorelai made idle chit-chat with the duo before concluding that all was fine. Her curiosity peaked again momentarily on exiting the room when she noticed a stray piece of paper on the floor with 'Operation Coffee and Carrot Sticks' scrawled hastily across the top. Unable to make out any of the writing beneath it, she shrugged it off as simply one of the activities the girls had dreamt up to keep themselves occupied.

Rory didn't relax until she heard her mother's muffled footsteps disappear down the hall, falling back against the door as she whispered, "That was close."

"No kidding. I was petrified she'd notice everything hiding behind the bed," Lane breathed.

"Let's get this up to the rooftop sooner rather than later. The cleaners will be here soon and we can't risk them springing us."

Gesturing out the window toward the graying sky, Lane hedged hesitantly, "Ah, Rory? That might be kind of a problem."

Rory took in the dark clouds looming ominously with the promise of rain, her hands immediately flying up to press against her temples as she cursed her uncharacteristic lack of planning.

"No, no, no!" she cried. "This _cannot_ be happening! I can't believe I didn't look at the weather forecast."

Studying the sky closely, she thought back over her lesson on clouds with Luke and determined the rain was likely to be upon them soon and persist throughout much of the night. She felt her lower lip quiver when the realization sunk in that her carefully-planned romantic rooftop evening would not become a reality.

"We can't reschedule," Lane stated determinedly. "I'm sure we could find somewhere to store most of the stuff but it's going to be so hard to convince Mama to let us have another movie night at my house again so soon. I swear Christian kids' movies only come out like once every five years so we're gonna have to come up with something different if we miss this opportunity to give your mom and Luke some time alone. Plus, today's the perfect day because you know Luke's not working the dinner shift. Is there somewhere else indoors here that we could do it?"

Rory sighed, dropping her head into her hands as she racked her brain for another solution.

"All of the guest rooms are booked for tonight. We could use the conference room but I think Mom will notice us setting up. We need somewhere more private."

"There has to be somewhere."

"Well, it's not my first choice, but if we're desperate…"

"We are."

"There's always the storeroom."

Lane pondered the idea for a moment before saying, "I think we should go for it. It's not as nice as the rooftop but there's plenty of room in there and we can make it look pretty with the fairy lights and candles."

Accepting defeat, Rory nodded her agreement.

It took them several hours and countless covert trips up and down the seemingly never-ending flight of stairs, but when Rory and Lane stepped back to assess their handiwork, the two girls couldn't help but smile.

"OK, looks like it's crunch time. Guess I better call the diner," Rory whispered, wringing her hands anxiously.

Lane took up her position as sentry downstairs as Rory nervously commandeered the phone in Mia's office and dialed the number. She was relieved to hear Caesar's friendly greeting after a few short rings.

"Hi Caesar, it's Rory. I was just wondering whether you'd be able to get a message to Luke from my mom please?"

"No problem. I can put him on the phone if you like?"

"No, a message is fine," Rory responded quickly, fearful of chickening out at the sound of Luke's voice. "Would you mind asking him if there's any chance he can stop by the inn tonight please? There's an…er…leak in the storeroom ceiling and Mom couldn't get a tradesperson out at short notice. She was hoping Luke might be able to help."

She listened as Caesar relayed the query to Luke, Rory insisting that he didn't need to leave the diner early and that the early evening would work best as Lorelai would be free to show him the problem at the end of her shift. Much to Rory's delight, Luke agreed to meet Lorelai at the storeroom at 6pm. Now all she needed to do was find a way to get her mother in the same place at the same time.

Hearing the sound of footsteps in the corridor and Lane's warning cough – the signal for Rory to get moving — Rory scurried from the office, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

One thing was for sure: she would be downright relieved once all of this was over. There was only so much rule-breaking she could handle.

-o-

He wished there was a handbook. A helpful guide complete with glossary of terms or at the very least, some kind of translator.

Luke Danes had never been a man that had trouble attracting the opposite sex, but he was the first to admit he was far from fluent in the universal language shared amongst women.

Oh, he knew enough to get by. He knew 'I'll be five minutes' was code for 'you'll be lucky if I'm ready in an hour'. He realized that 'you don't need to get me anything for my birthday' actually meant 'I expect you to purchase the gift I have been hinting about for weeks'. He knew better than anything that 'fine' was a dangerous word and signalled the situation at hand was anything _but_ fine.

What he didn't know was the translation of 'there's a leak in the ceiling and I need you to fix it'. That's if there was a translation at all.

At first, he'd taken Lorelai's request at face value and agreed to help without hesitation. It was only when he thought about it in closer detail later that he realized the Independence Inn storeroom was on the first floor – a full floor below the building's roof with no way for the drizzling rain to seep inside. As far as he was aware from the various repairs he had conducted for Mia over the years, there was no plumbing running directly above the room either, reiterating the implausibility of the ceiling having sprung a leak. Perhaps it was code for 'come over and see me away from the prying eyes of the town.' Granted, they'd barely had any time alone of late with Rory so reluctant to separate from her mother so his theory wasn't entirely far-fetched.

Bewildered but intrigued nonetheless, Luke made sure to apply an extra dab of cologne just in case before loading his toolbox into the truck and setting off for the inn.

Recognizing Luke's familiar face, the attendant at the front desk waved him on as he made his way through the front door and up the staircase. Reaching the storeroom, Luke heard the faint strains of guitar from inside but found the door locked. When his knock was met with silence, he looked around quizzically, his eyes roaming the hall for any sign of Lorelai. Just as he was about to go searching for her, he caught a glimpse of her raven locks rounding the corner.

"Luke?" she asked, surprise evident in her tone as her eyes landed on his frame. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to plug the hole in your ceiling," he clarified, puzzled by the confusion on her face.

"Ha! Dirty!" At his eye roll she added, "Wait, there's a hole in the ceiling? What happened?"

"I don't know. _You_ called _me_ ," Luke reminded her, his brow furrowed.

"Somebody spike your tea today sparky? I've got no idea what you're talking about."

"Caesar gave me a message that you needed me to meet you here at six because the storeroom had sprung a leak."

"I hate to burst your bubble but I definitely did not call you. Maybe it was Mia? I got a post-it on my desk telling me to come here so maybe that's what it was about. I guess she must be meeting us here."

"Weird," Luke shrugged, setting his toolbox aside as they waited for Mia. He itched to reach out and draw her to him but resisted the urge knowing that anyone could walk around the corner and see them.

"Is that _Bono_?" Lorelai asked, her face scrunching up as she strained to hear the faint music drifting from behind the storeroom door.

"As long as it's not that damned Jitterbug guy, I'm not fazed."

"You don't like Wham? I'm sorry, I don't think I can be seen with you anymore."

"Damn 80s hippies," Luke grumbled.

Ignoring his pointed scowl, Lorelai raised her fist as a makeshift microphone, teasingly serenading him with, "Wake me up before you go-go; don't leave me hangin' on like a yo-yo. Wake me up..."

Cutting her off mid-song, Luke deadpanned, "What are the chances of a bus doing me a favor and mowing me down right here, right now?"

"Given we're in the corridor of an inn, I'd say slim to none, my friend. Slim to none. Tell you what, I'll quit with the Wham solo if I'm allowed to sing along with _Where the Streets Have No Name_ instead. Why is there music playing in there anyway?" Lorelai pondered, stepping closer to the door.

Finding it locked, she withdrew her set of keys from her pocket, pushing open the door to find the normally drab storeroom decorated with fairy lights and candles. A woollen blanket laid spread out on the floor, a picnic basket resting atop it.

"Luke?" she asked incredulously. "Is there something you're not telling me? Is this for us?"

"Huh?" he asked, dumbstruck.

"This; all this. Was it you?"

"As much as I'd like to take credit for it, I had nothing to do with it," he explained truthfully. "Do you think we should be in here? I mean, what if we've just crashed someone's date?" he added, looking around furtively.

"In a storeroom?"

"Well geez. Who knows what's all the rage these days."

"All the rage?" Lorelai snorted. "The last person I heard use that phrase was as old as my Grandma."

His withering glare silenced her temporarily. After a few seconds spent walking around the room, she added, "Ah, Luke. I think it's safe to assume this is for us."

He allowed his eyes to settle on the piece of paper she held up, reading, 'Luke and Lorelai, your dinner awaits' in childlike handwriting, the words encased by a red love heart.

Taking in the coffee thermos atop the blanket and the assortment of food resting beside the picnic basket, Lorelai murmured beneath her breath, "Operation Coffee and Carrot Sticks. I should have known."

"I have an idea who might be behind this and I can confidently say it's not Mia," Lorelai sighed. At Luke's perplexed stare she added, "Blue eyes, brown hair, about as tall as an oompah loompah, answers to the name of 'I-am-going-to-have-my-ass-kicked-so-bad-when-Mom-gets-home."

" _Rory_ did this?" Luke asked, shocked.

"You're a regular Sherlock."

"Rory did this for _us_?"

"I suspect she might have had help from a certain Korean partner-in-crime, but yes, this reeks of my matchmaking daughter. Guess she wasn't so opposed to the idea of me dating someone after all."

"Dating _me_ ," Luke corrected, the teasing and slightly smug tone belying the gruffness of his voice. "She wasn't so opposed to the idea of you dating _me_. You never told her who you were going out with after all."

"You marking territory in the playground?" Lorelai teased.

"Yes," he growled unapologetically, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was in sight before taking her in his arms and kissing her with just a hint of possessiveness.

"Rory did this for _us_ ," he repeated in awe, turning her around in his arms and holding her tightly as they both surveyed the scene before them. "Wait, where is Rory?"

"Getting ready for me to drop her off at the pound," Lorelai muttered menacingly.

"Is she here?"

"Nah. She's over at Lane's for dinner and a movie. Mrs. Kim picked them up 15 minutes ago."

"Just quietly, I'm not so sure she should be relinquished to the pound. I happen to think she's a keeper."

"Yeah well, you pay me a good price for her and she's all yours. None of this free to good home business. I want cold hard cash baby."

"Lorelai?" he murmured quietly, his lips brushing lightly against her ear.

"Yeah?"

"Rory did this for us."

"Yes," she breathed.

"She wants us to be together. She wants what we want."

"Yes," Lorelai repeated quietly, her eyes glassy as the reality of the situation finally struck her.

Pressing a soft kiss into her hair, Luke whispered, "You think we could maybe enjoy this feast she's prepared before we find her a new home?"

-o-

They chatted and laughed and touched and ate and enjoyed each other's company behind the locked door of the storeroom, and — much to Luke's dismay — toasted their relationship with some sugar-filled, imitation wine straight from Rory's plastic pink Disney princess cups.

Lorelai could have easily rustled up some real alcohol and more appropriate glassware from the kitchen, but it would have meant facing Sookie's scrutinizing stare and probing line of questioning, and truth be told, she felt there was something vaguely romantic about enjoying the banquet exactly as Rory had intended. So she'd batted her eyelids flirtatiously and with very little effort, managed to cajole a smile from Luke as he raised the Snow White-embellished tumbler in cheers and took a begrudging gulp.

Later, they sat together on the picnic blanket, Lorelai settled between Luke's legs, her back pressed to his chest as his fingertips trailed lazily along her forearm.

After years of feeding her at the diner, Luke shouldn't have been surprised at the amount of food she could pack away in one sitting, yet he found himself watching on in stunned fascination as Lorelai worked her way through her third dessert.

Pausing only to brush a wayward crumb from her lips, Lorelai continued on with her latest nonsense argument, claiming, "You've got to admit, it's a little too coincidental to ignore."

"The 27 club is _not_ a real thing Lorelai," Luke countered exasperatedly, punctuating his words with a loud groan.

"The figures disagree my friend. There is a statistical spike in the number of musicians that die at age 27. Not dentists. Not office workers. Not tradespeople. Just musicians. You hit 27 and _boom_ , all over red rover."

"Statistical spike, my ass," Luke grumbled. "It's nothing but a half-baked conspiracy theory dreamt up by some crackpot celebrity gossip columnist with a below-average IQ and far too much time on their hands."

"Really? That's what you're going with? Need I mention Jimi Hendrix? Janis Joplin? Brian Jones?"

"Three people is hardly a pattern Lorelai."

"Jim Morrison; Kristen Pfaff; Kurt Cobain," Lorelai rattled off, using her fingers to keep a tally. "You need me to go on?"

"Did you ever think that maybe the reason so many celebrities have died at that age is because unlike most dentists, office workers and tradespeople they're boozing up and snorting lines every night?" he pointed out dryly.

"So you admit it; there _is_ an unusually high amount of musicians keeling over at 27," Lorelai tormented.

"You're cracked," Luke groaned in defeat. "What's next? You gonna try convincing me that Dr Dre guy is _actually_ a real doctor?"

"A doctor of beats, baby," she quipped, her eyes dancing with mirth. "And just for the record, I'm impressed you know who he is."

"Yeah well, kind of hard to miss. He and that Snoopy Dog kid seem to be everywhere you turn right now."

"You mean Snoop Dogg?" Lorelai snorted.

"Whatever," he grumbled.

"Well, even I'll admit Dr Dre's no budding medical professional. That said, the British royal paternity saga has much more convincing evidence if you're really looking for a plausible celebrity conspiracy theory."

"I'm not."

"I'm just saying…the resemblance between Prince Harry and James Hewitt is uncanny. Red hair; skin complexion; facial structure. Prince Charles didn't even get a look-in. You draw the parallels," she added, her eyebrows raised as she cast a knowing look over her shoulder at him.

"Remind me again why I ever thought dating a crazy lady was a good idea."

Her eyes twinkled as she felt him nuzzle her neck from behind and she exhaled a contented sigh before murmuring, "Don't lie; you love it. This has been a pretty great first date."

"Been a long time coming."

"Too long," Lorelai agreed with a nod. She carefully surveyed the remainder of their feast, selecting a miniature caramel tart and proceeding to slowly devour the sweet topping. "You know what this means, don't you?"

"You're about three seconds away from entering a sugar coma?"

"Not even close," she scoffed, swirling her tongue over the caramel. "It means you're really going to need to pull out all the stops on this mystery date you've been planning or risk being outdone by a 10-year-old."

"I think I can handle it."

"Confident, are we?" Lorelai teased, her eyebrow quirked.

"Please. Aside from the fact that even Kirk's lounge room would trump a storeroom when it comes to location, we both know the way to your heart is through your stomach. All I need to do is serve up some pie and a cup of coffee and I've got you for life," Luke deadpanned.

"Life, huh? You might live to regret that decision. You get less for murder."

"God help me," Luke groaned, counteracting his statement with an affectionate squeeze of her arm.

"Just for the record, I'm not so keen on the Kirk's lounge room idea," Lorelai warned with mock severity. "And besides, you'd need to get permission from his mother first."

Luke chuckled at her words, nodding his head in agreement. Breathing in the heady scent of her perfume, he added quietly, "I can't believe tonight is almost over. I don't want to let you go."

Angling her head to study the numbers on his watch, Lorelai let out a resigned moan. "The fun police strike again. I guess we better start packing up so I can go and fetch that little mischief-maker of mine."

"In a minute," he murmured, using the arm banded securely around her waist to pull her closer.

She smiled happily, relaxing into him as she proceeded to bite into the hard pastry clasped lightly in her hand.

"You gonna thank her or chastise her?"

"Rory? I don't know," she shrugged. "Probably both. It's pretty amazing what she's done for us. I mean, she's gone to a lot of effort and the thought was really sweet. On the other hand, I think I'm gonna have to kick her sorry little ass for meddling. Can't have her taking after my mother."

Luke snorted, finding it impossible to reconcile the image of placid, polite Rory with the formidable picture Lorelai had painted of Emily Gilmore.

"Don't be too hard on her. We probably would have been waiting another three years for a date if she hadn't organized this."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Although, next time it would be great if she could tee up a sleepover at Lane's. I haven't got my Luke fill just yet," she pouted.

"I'll be sure to write that on the comment cards. C'mon, up we get," he uttered half-heartedly, tapping her leg lightly. She popped the last morsel of tart into her mouth and rose into a standing position before turning around and extending her hand to help pull him to his feet.

They set about packing the remaining food into the picnic basket and systematically working their way around the room blowing out candles and pulling down fairy lights. Once the storeroom had largely been returned to its original state, they reluctantly said their goodbyes, Luke tucking a stray strand of hair back behind Lorelai's ear before kissing her softly. Picking up his toolbox, Luke poked his head out into the hallway to check the coast was clear before gesturing for Lorelai to walk out ahead of him.

"So we'll try again for Saturday, yeah? Supposing you can find a sitter for Rory?" he asked hopefully.

"Saturday it is. Third time lucky Danes."

-o-

"You're late."

Mrs. Kim's harsh stare bore into Lorelai, her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the younger woman's colorful clothing ensemble critically.

"I…I am?" Lorelai stuttered in surprise, silently running over their earlier conversation at the inn and wondering how she'd somehow mixed up the agreed collection time. "I thought we said 8pm?"

"We did," Mrs. Kim barked abrasively. "It is now 8.01."

"Oh…er…sorry," Lorelai mumbled uncomfortably, immediately feeling as if she was seven years old again.

After being ushered into the foyer, Lorelai surveyed the room before asking conversationally, "So, the girls were well-behaved?"

"Of course. They watched a good, Christian movie and are now upstairs saying their prayers before bed."

Lorelai offered a weak smile, nodding her head in understanding.

"You have eaten?" Mrs. Kim implored. "I have tofurkey. It seems Lane and Rory were not very hungry this evening."

"I'm fine thank you," Lorelai hastily replied. "I ate at the inn."

"Very well. I shall call Rory."

Detecting a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye, Lorelai ascertained that the two 10-year-olds were already within earshot, having eagerly taken up position at the top of the stairs to listen to the adults' exchange. Knowing that they would be straining their ears for any indication of how the evening had played out, Lorelai couldn't resist toying with them a little, her smirk kept carefully under wraps.

"Thanks again for having Rory over Mrs. Kim. She would have had much more fun here than with me. My evening was really uneventful."

"Rory is a good girl," Mrs. Kim acknowledged with a firm nod.

Watching as the older woman moved to mount the stairs, Lorelai heard the faint scuttle of little feet as the girls made a beeline for Lane's bedroom.

A minute later, Mrs. Kim returned with both girls at her heels, Rory looking guilt-ridden and refusing to make eye contact with her mother. Lane, on the other hand, was bright-eyed and curious, smiling at Lorelai and surveying her inquisitively.

"So you had a nice night Lorelai?" she inquired boldly, clearly desperate for details.

"Ms. Gilmore," Mrs. Kim corrected sternly.

"Sorry Mama. You had a nice night Ms. Gilmore?" Lane rephrased, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at her mother's archaic antics. She'd been calling Rory's mom by her first name for years.

"It was certainly a very _interesting_ evening," Lorelai replied cryptically, refusing to offer any further information or indication of her mood.

 _Best to let them stew for a while._

Rory gulped nervously, her eyes still downcast.

"I hear you girls had fun watching a movie," Lorelai offered easily.

"Yeah. It was really…er…entertaining," Lane said, the cringe on her face belying the enthusiasm in her tone. When Mrs. Kim's gaze moved to rest on her daughter, she plastered on a fake smile and added, "Nothing like seeing Naaman healed of leprosy."

"Sounds…gripping," Lorelai coughed, smiling encouragingly for Mrs. Kim's benefit. She might have been tiny, but Lorelai was all-too-aware of the fury the brusque Korean woman could unleash. It was best not to get her off-side.

"Alright, well I guess it's time we made tracks kiddo," Lorelai declared, reaching to relieve Rory of the backpack slung over her right shoulder. "You say thanks to Mrs. Kim and Lane for having you over."

They exchanged goodbyes, Lane offering Rory an encouraging smile as the youngest Gilmore followed Lorelai down the front path and anxiously awaited what she was now convinced would be a reprimand from her mother.

Lorelai unloaded the backpack in the Jeep and assessed the rain clouds above before turning to Rory and saying, "You wanna hit the gazebo kid? I think we've got some things to talk about."

Rory nodded mutely, her fingers automatically reaching up to twist in her hair; a nervous habit she'd learned from her mother.

They set off toward the gazebo in silence, the light sprinkle of rain a welcome distraction. Rory's eyes were focused intently on the sidewalk beneath her, her shoes scuffing the concrete as she slowly ambled forward.

"So I heard there was a water leak in the storeroom tonight," Lorelai began leadingly, watching as her daughter drew her bottom lip between her teeth anxiously. "Quite a surprise really given the storeroom is nowhere near the roof or the plumbing at the inn."

Rory seemed to be carefully contemplating her best line of response before the angst took hold and she blurted, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Mom. Am I grounded? I mean of course I'm grounded. I'm grounding myself. I'm never leaving the house again. You can just feed me bread and water from now on. I'll never ask for a Pop-Tart or Al's takeout or a cheeseburger and fries again. No movie nights either. And my books! Oh, my beautiful books. I'll get rid of the lot. I'll never read again. You can clear them out tonight. Every last one. The Bronte collection included and the leather-bound edition of…"

"Babe, breathe," Lorelai commanded, her hands coming to rest on her daughter's shoulders and effectively cutting her off mid-speech. "I don't know where you get that rambling thing from but it's definitely not me," she teased.

Rory offered her a semblance of a smile, her blue eyes still conveying her apprehension.

"I'm not gonna take away your precious books," Lorelai said softly, lifting Rory's chin to make eye contact.

"You're not?"

Lorelai shook her head. "Or cancel movie nights. They're no fun without a mocking partner to fight over Mallomars with."

Pressing her palm softly against Rory's back, Lorelai guided her daughter forward once again, completing the short walk to the gazebo. They settled on one of the wooden benches, Lorelai looking out absently across the square.

"So tell me, true or false kid? You really were sick with a headache and sore stomach when I had that date penciled in the Saturday before last?"

The pitter patter of rain on the roof was the only sound that could be heard as Rory deliberated over a suitable answer.

Hanging her head ashamedly, she finally choked out, "F...False."

"And last weekend's theatrics when I was getting ready for my date? You genuinely were upset about me leaving you with Mia for a few hours?"

"False," she repeated, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Huh," Lorelai murmured pensively.

The silence that followed was deafening. At least for Rory, who at the very least wished her mom would yell, scold or lecture her for her meddlesome behavior. A quiet Lorelai was a rare occurrence and in truth, Rory feared her mother's disappointment more than her anger.

"I'm sorry," the young girl repeated, feeling the overwhelming urge to demonstrate her remorse. The jumble of words rose up inside her once again and began tumbling from her mouth in a rush. "I shouldn't have lied. It was really wrong of me to pretend I was sick and I should never have stopped you from going on your date. Oh, and Mia! Poor Mia. I made her come over to watch me and then we had to send her home. What if she'd cancelled plans to take care of me and then found out we didn't need her after it was too late for her to reschedule? Did she have plans Mom? Did she have to cancel them to watch me? I can't believe I've been so selfish. And you, all you wanted was to go out for a few hours and I made you stay with me. All because I had this stupid idea of you and Luke and I being the perfect family. And maybe you really liked Connor's dad and wanted to be his girlfriend and get married and now I've blown your chances. I know, I'll talk to Connor and explain what happened and you can try again and I promise I won't interfere this time and..."

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down tiger," Lorelai urged, her expression incredulous. "Rewind a little. You're worried Mia gave up plans to look after you? Totally not an issue. She told me she didn't have anything else scheduled. And did you say Connor's dad? You mean _Lincoln_? And get _married_? I'm gonna need you to join the dots for me kid."

"I shouldn't have stopped you from going out with him," Rory sighed resignedly. "I just really wanted you and Luke to get together so I thought if I got in the way of your dates with Mr Green and showed you how great Luke was you might change your mind."

Lorelai couldn't help the bubble of laughter that spilled from her lips.

"You thought I was dating _Connor's dad_? Where on Earth did you get that idea?" she sputtered.

Her brow furrowed in frustration, Rory explained simply, "Connor told Lane you went on a date with his dad before school broke up."

"Oh babe," Lorelai laughed, dropping her head into her hands. "We have seriously gotten our wires crossed."

"So you didn't go on a date with him?" Rory inquired skeptically, her face blanketed in confusion. And there it was. The flicker of hope igniting in her chest once again.

"No, I did. I just…it was one date Rory. Hardly even a date, really. Just lunch. And I sure never had any plans to do it again."

"So if it wasn't Connor's dad you were meant to be going out with these last few weekends, who was it?"

"You really wanna know?" Lorelai responded with a chuckle, raising her head slightly so her eyes peeked out over the top of her hands.

Rory nodded impatiently, her fingers tightening against the rough wood of the bench.

"Luke. I was going out with Luke."

"You w _hat_?" Rory asked, her eyes widening in shock and her jaw dropping involuntarily. " _Luke_ Luke? Diner Luke? _Our_ Luke?"

"The one and only."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Sighting Lorelai's impish expression, Rory groaned, "So you mean to tell me that all this time I've been stopping you from going out with the guy I wanted you to be with all along?"

"Sounds that way kid."

"Oh my God," she moaned. "Wait until I tell Lane. I'm such an _idiot_."

"Hey, nobody calls my kid an idiot. You hear me?" Lorelai challenged, extending her arm to wrap around Rory's shoulders and drawing her closer.

"Moommm," Rory giggled, rolling her eyes. "I really am sorry," she added sincerely a moment later.

"I know babe. I'm sorry too. I should have told you about Luke right away. I was waiting for the right moment and then you just seemed so worried about the whole thing that I didn't want to upset you more. I love you so much that I hate to see you sad or worried."

"It's not your fault. I should have let you go and not acted like a big baby."

After a moment's silence, Lorelai bumped her shoulder against Rory's side and said, "Look at us going all Brady Bunch on each other. We're getting all soppy and serious."

"Ugh, gross," Rory muttered in solidarity, a grin gracing her lips.

"I guess I can be a little thick-headed sometimes, huh?"

"I didn't think you'd _ever_ wake up and notice Luke," Rory moaned exasperatedly, throwing her hands up into her hair.

"Well, better late than never, hey kid?"

Rory smiled and nodded, snuggling into her mother's side.

"As much as I loved your little surprise date tonight, you think you could maybe leave the wheeling and dealing up to me from now on?" Lorelai requested.

"I guess…" Rory drawled, her tone teasing. "As long as you promise not to be so slow on the uptake."

"Hey!" Lorelai shouted in mock offence. Lifting a hand to tickle Rory's belly lightly, she added, "How about you come and tell me next time you think I'm missing what's right in front of my eyes, okay? No sneaking around. We're in this together, remember."

"Okay," Rory agreed, lapsing into silence as she soaked up her mother's warmth.

"I should never have let you watch that damn Parent Trap movie," Lorelai muttered under her breath, prompting a pleased grin from her daughter.

The reality of the situation finally sinking in a moment later, Rory's face jerked up toward Lorelai's as she excitedly asked, "So you and Luke are together?"

"Well he hasn't serenaded me with a love song or stood outside my room with a boom box all night or released 12 white doves fro…"

"Moommm," Rory groaned once again.

"Luke and I are together," Lorelai confirmed, powerless against the smile lighting up her whole face.

Rory immediately leapt to her feet and started squealing as she bounced around the gazebo in delight.

"I guess I don't need to ask how you feel about that," Lorelai teased.

"Mom this is the BEST news! Luke and you! You and Luke! _Luke_!"

Lorelai simply chuckled, her grin still firmly in place as her daughter babbled excitedly.

"We're going to get _so_ much free pie!"

"Rory!" Lorelai scolded, but her voice lacked conviction and she couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up inside her. Watching her daughter hop delightedly from toe to toe, she added seriously, "Just remember, this isn't a fairytale like your books, okay? This may not work out so I don't want you to pin all of your hopes on it. It's early days, so we're just enjoying hanging out and seeing how things go. Don't go getting any crazy ideas."

"It's going to work; I know it is!" Rory squeaked, clapping her hands together.

Knowing that toning down her daughter's excitement level was a lost cause, Lorelai reached for Rory's hands and uttered, "So you wanna hear about our date?"

Rendered almost-deaf from the resulting squeal, Lorelai settled Rory on her lap, cuddling her close as she proceeded to recount her evening and convey just how thankful she was for her surprise date.

"OK, well this amazing little girl I know – mischievous but oh-so-lovable – decided to play matchmaker…"

-o-

 **Well, it wasn't quite the date they'd been banking on but at least our faves finally got a chance to spend some quality time together. What did you think? Would love, love, love to hear your thoughts :)**


	11. Chapter 11

Luke ran his fingers through his hair self-consciously, feeling somewhat exposed without his signature baseball cap affixed to his head. He was surprised to find his palms were slightly clammy, outwardly reflecting the nerves that fluttered in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't know why he was nervous; he saw Lorelai almost every day and generally had no trouble forming a coherent sentence or, as was often the case, a trademark grunt. Perhaps it was the fact that every other date he'd planned for them so far had been called off and there was a part of him that had still half-expected the cancellation call to come once again. Maybe it was the niggling concern that the evening's activities wouldn't live up to her expectations. Or quite possibly, it was the fear that Lorelai Gilmore would come to her senses any day now and realize she could do so much better than him.

Taking a deep breath, Luke pointedly reminded himself that his anxiety was unfounded; after all, their surprise date had been a roaring success and she had welcomed his affections with the warmth, fervor and intensity that were uniquely Lorelai. Being with her felt natural; effortless – as if all the cogs had finally clicked into their rightful position. He just needed to keep a cool head and trust in the inexplicable magnetic pull that somehow always drew them to each other.

Removing the keys from the ignition, Luke relinquished the safety of his truck, stepping out into the warm summer night. He slowly exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, staring up at the brightly lit house in front of him.

 _One foot in front of the other. C'mon Danes, you've got this._

Anxiously wiping his sweaty palms against the front of his jeans, Luke drew himself up to his full height before marching purposefully toward the front porch.

He'd deliberately selected a smart casual clothing ensemble for the evening, favoring a white collared shirt beneath a dark blue sweater that had grown soft and pliant after years of going through the wash. It molded to the hard planes of his body, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows to combat the balmy evening weather. Paired with a set of denim jeans – much dressier than the worn pairs he sported in the diner, but comfortable nonetheless – Luke reveled in the fact there was no need for pretenses with Lorelai. Sure, he'd made a point of abandoning his regular flannel and donning some more respectable attire, but he knew without a doubt that he didn't need an expensive suit and branded apparel to impress her. She didn't place much stock in status symbols.

His soft knock was answered almost immediately, the door flying open to reveal the younger Gilmore, her hair messy and her Disney pajamas indicating she was preparing to settle in for the night.

"Hey Squirt, how you doing?" Luke asked, offering the pint-sized 10-year-old a warm smile.

"I'm well thank you Lucas," Rory responded seriously, her uncharacteristic prim and proper manner and the unprecedented use of his full first name prompting his smile to falter slightly. "Please come in."

Feeling slightly confused at the atypical greeting, Luke did as instructed, stepping into the foyer and allowing her to direct him into the kitchen. He noticed Mia hadn't arrived to babysit yet.

"I'm glad you're here a little early. Please, take a seat," Rory encouraged, gesturing to the kitchen table.

Hesitating for only a moment, Luke obliged, surreptitiously glancing around for any sign of Lorelai.

"She's upstairs getting ready," Rory explained. "She'll prefer it if you're a little late anyway, so I thought we could have a talk before you head out."

"Oh…er…okay," Luke nodded slowly, feeling slightly unsettled by her peculiar behavior. "Everything okay Rory?"

"Yes. Everything's fine," she agreed, taking a seat opposite him at the table.

Reaching for what appeared to be Lorelai's sparkle-covered glasses case, Luke watched as the young girl carefully extracted her mother's black frames from the case and proceeded to put the oversized spectacles on. Placing both palms face down on the table and leaning in toward him, Rory confidently said, "Luke, I need to ask you: what are your intentions with my mother?"

Luke felt the deep rumble of laughter bubble in his stomach and fought hard to suppress the smile that threatened to grace his features.

"Your mom put you up to this, didn't she?" he asked, looking around the room and half expecting to see Lorelai snickering from behind from the door. "Get out here Gilmore," he growled, doing his best to pinpoint her hiding spot.

"I told you, Mom's upstairs getting ready," Rory stated earnestly. "She doesn't know you're here yet. I'd really appreciate it if you could answer the question before she comes down please."

Once again, Luke had to do his best to stifle any signs of laughter.

"My…er…intentions?"

"That's right," Rory affirmed.

"You mean…ah…just for tonight or…?" he queried awkwardly, clasping his hands together in his lap.

"Umm…" Rory trailed off, her eyes darting down to the floor sheepishly. "Actually Luke, I don't really know what intentions are. I just heard someone ask that question in a movie once before the main character went on a date. It seemed kind of important."

He couldn't stop the corners of his lips from edging upwards at her words, but responded seriously nonetheless.

"Right, well, in that case, I guess I better answer your question. My intention for tonight – that is, what I plan to do and how I see this going – is to take your mom out for dinner and then a movie. Does that seem okay to you?"

Rory nodded, involuntarily flashing her girlish smile before quickly recovering her humorless expression. Leaning back in her chair, she folded her arms across her chest as she sized him up.

"Which restaurant?"

"I thought we'd try the new Mexican one that has opened up in Litchfield. Your mom seems to like Mexican food and I've heard good things about this place."

Rory simply nodded. "And the movie?"

" _Breakfast at Tiffany's_."

"At the _Black, White & Read_?"

"Actually, no. It's in Litchfield too. They've got an outdoor screening in the park."

"Hmm," Rory murmured, lifting her elbow up onto the table and resting her chin in her palm, her face deep in thought.

"Not good?" Luke asked, suddenly doubtful. Rory knew her mother and her taste in movies better than anyone.

The pre-teen surveyed him carefully through the oversized glasses, her eyes scrunching up as she tried to focus through the lenses that warped her vision. Allowing the frames to drop lower on her nose, her piercing blue gaze met his over the top rim.

"No, it's good," Rory agreed slowly. "Just make sure you pick up an extra burrito when you leave the restaurant."

"Sorry?"

"An extra burrito. Or taco...either one. Mom will want one to eat during the movie. Don't listen to her if she says she's full."

"Right, of course, thanks for the tip."

Rory nodded, hastily pushing the glasses higher up the bridge of her nose when they almost slipped from her face.

"And after the movie? What are your intentions?"

"We'll drive back to Stars Hollow."

"And then?" Rory pressed.

"I'll drop your mom home."

"And?"

"Walk her to the door?" he wagered uncertainly, taken off-guard by her incessant line of questioning.

"And?"

"Annnd….?" Luke asked slowly, unsure of what more she wanted him to say.

"And?" she repeated, her eyes wide and imploring. "What are you going to do when you drop her at the door?"

"Umm…say g…goodnight?" he stuttered uncertainly.

"And?" At Luke's perplexed stare, she hissed, "Are you going to K-I-S-S her?" Her cheeks flamed red as she spelled out the word as if it was the most taboo subject in the world. Luke reasoned that for a 10-year-old, it probably was.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, finally grasping what she was getting at. Again, the laughter threatened to overtake him and he had to work hard to return her serious gaze.

 _I'm planning on kissing her senseless._

"I think I'll let your mom decide on that one kiddo. How about we just see how the date goes first?"

"Okay," she agreed . "What time will you have her home by?"

"Oh…umm…midnight, I guess. I can't imagine it would be any later."

At her cocked eyebrow he quickly amended his statement. "Actually, 11 seems closer to the mark. I'll have her back by 11."

"You realize it's a school night?" Rory countered pointedly.

"I thought you were on summer vacation," he challenged.

Rory blushed, quickly recovering as she said, "Okay, well, a work night for Mom."

"11pm and not a minute later, I promise."

"I'll be checking to make sure that's the case."

"You'll be sleeping soundly at that hour young lady," he teased. "I happen to know for a fact that a freight train couldn't wake you when you're out cold."

Her facade crumbling, Rory giggled, recognizing the truth to his statement. She slowly removed the glasses from her face, her blue eyes settling on his.

"Hey Luke?" she ventured, resuming her usual girlish tone.

"Yeah Squirt?"

"Take a breath mint with you for after the Mexican. I think you'll need it for the end of the night."

-o-

"You got hustled by a 10-year-old!" Lorelai teased gleefully, her laughter reverberating around the truck cabin as they pulled up outside the park in Litchfield. They'd not long finished dinner at the Mexican restaurant and had made their way across town for the movie screening.

"I did. I got absolutely hammered," he grumbled, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips after recounting the story of his encounter with Rory to Lorelai.

"That's Mommy's little girl! I can't believe she wore the glasses. Haha!"

Unclipping her seatbelt, Lorelai slid a little closer to Luke's side, cupping his cheek as she said, "Say, did you happen to take her advice and pack a breath mint or two soldier?"

"Might've taken care of it," he replied smugly, inching one arm around her waist and drawing her closer. "You can call me Colgate."

"What can I say? My kid gives good advice."

"That she does," he agreed, leaning in to brush his lips against hers.

"Why Mr Danes, that felt awfully like a K-I-S-S right there, and it isn't even the end of the night," she teased. "I'm scandalized."

"What can I say? I'm a rebel without a cause," he countered, enjoying the feel of her hands against his chest as he leaned down to peck her lips once again.

"If she's that scandalized by a K-I-S-S, imagine how outraged she'd be if we F-…."

"Lorelai," Luke warned, effectively nipping her spelling exercise in the bud.

"R-E-N-C-H K-I-S-S-E-D. Geez Luke, what did you think I was going to say?" Her bright blue eyes danced with laughter, leaving no doubt as to her true meaning.

"You're going to be the death of me," he growled, nipping lightly at her lower lip. Welcoming his questing tongue, Lorelai's hands tangled in his hair as she held him to her, finally easing her grip when they both became desperate for air.

"Lucky Rory wasn't here to see that," she breathed. "On a school night and everything. You are bad."

"Don't you start," he grumbled, resting his forehead against hers and feathering light kisses against her lips.

"Mmm minty fresh."

"If we don't move soon we're going to miss the movie," Luke ventured reluctantly.

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

"No, but seeing as we're here, we might as well watch it."

"I'm so full I'm going to need to roll out of here," Lorelai groaned.

"C'mon, I'll give you a push," Luke offered, dropping one last kiss against her mouth before pulling back and getting out of the vehicle. He walked around to the back and retrieved the picnic rug and cooler he'd packed, which now held the food package from the restaurant that he'd managed to slip in there while Lorelai was in the ladies room. Making his way to the passenger side, he opened her door and helped her out before leading her into the park.

"So what movie are we watching Cool Hand?"

" _The Terminator,_ " Luke answered easily, silently counting down the seconds until Lorelai rose to the bait.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope, it's a classic. You'll love it."

"How about we go make out instead?" she whined, looping her arm through his.

"We can do that just as well right here."

"But Luuuukkkeee."

"Relax, I'm kidding. It's _Breakfast at Tiffany's_."

"Oh my god! Are you serious? You are officially the best boyfriend ever! There is going to be so much K-I-S-S-I-N-G tonight you won't know what's hit you."

"Glad to see my evil plan worked," he said with a smirk. "Here, grab this," he added, handing her one end of the rug and crouching down to spread it out on a vacant patch of grass. The park was fast beginning to fill with couples, families and teenagers and Luke was grateful to find an available spot offering a good viewing angle of the screen.

Watching as he smoothed out a wrinkle in the rug and lowered the cooler onto one corner, Lorelai noted, "Well, well Danes. I must say I didn't have you pegged as a sit-on-the-ground, picnic-rug kinda guy."

"You got that right," he mumbled.

"And yet, here we are; second date, second picnic rug."

"First _official_ date," he reminded her, gesturing for her to sit down. "And in my defense, I had nothing to do with the last picnic rug setup. That was all Rory. Besides, _I_ might recognize the true value of a good beach chair but _you_ sure don't seem to mind slumming it on the hard ground."

"Such a smooth talker," Lorelai gushed sarcastically, a mischievous glint in her eye as she settled on the rug cross-legged. "Why Lucas, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to impress me."

"If I wanted to do that, I'd just wrangle you a cup of coffee and be done with it," he scoffed dryly.

"Please, give me some credit. Coffee and pie at least. Preferably cherry flavor."

Stretching her long legs out in front of her, Lorelai leaned backwards, resting her weight on her palms as she surveyed the crowd around them. People of all ages continued to filter into the park, setting up picnic rugs and beach chairs and chattering away as they awaited the start of the screening. Her attention was captured by a pimple-faced teenager working his way through the masses of people just a few meters away. He was one of about 10 uniformed attendants selling buckets of popcorn and all manner of glow-in-the-dark paraphernalia.

Following her line of vision, Luke pre-empted her inevitable squeal of delight with a gruff, "You don't need it."

Affronted, Lorelai turned to face him, her eyes wide as she fast began formulating an argument.

Before she could utter so much as one word, Luke tapped the cooler and stated sternly, "You've got more than enough junk food here to successfully clog your arteries. And the answer is no; the glow sticks are for all the 12-year-olds."

"But Luke…" she began, her lower lip dropping ever-so-slightly as her blue orbs settled on him.

"Five minutes ago you told me you could barely move from the truck you were so full. Now you're honestly telling me you want popcorn?"

"It's not a proper movie night without popcorn," she pointed out despondently, and it was all he could do not to bail up the attendant and buy every single box of popcorn in his carry case.

Masking his features with feigned exasperation, Luke waited until he caught the teen's eye before waving him over and drawing his wallet from his back pocket.

The gangly attendant wound his way through the motley assortment of rugs and chairs, stopping in front of them and asking, "What can I get you sir?"

Glancing at Lorelai's enthusiastic expression, Luke sighed.

"We'll have a large popcorn please. And some of your glowy things…" he requested, waving his hand vaguely toward the incandescent jewelry. He gave Lorelai a resigned nod, impelling her to select her accessories of choice.

He should have known that the glow bracelet wouldn't be enough. Of course she would want to be decked out in the full ensemble. As she deliberated earnestly between the matching glow necklace and crown, Luke finally grumbled, "We'll take one of each."

Her resulting smile practically outshone the luminous jewelry and she eagerly proceeded to inform the salesperson of her preferred color choices. As the teen rifled through his stock in search of a blue crown, Luke added, "Better make that two. Pink for the second thanks."

Lorelai arched her eyebrow inquisitively, barely able to withhold her laughter as she uttered, "Is that to match your prom dress Danes? You'll look awful pretty."

"What can I say? Pink does wonders for my complexion," he deadpanned. Accepting the item from the attendant, he proceeded to place it beside the cooler bag, murmuring simply "For Rory," and simultaneously prompting Lorelai's heart to melt.

He paid the attendant and watched as Lorelai arranged her plastic bangle and necklace, the bright colors glowing in the evening light. After settling the crown amidst her crop of curls, Lorelai grinned broadly and asked confidently, "How do I look?"

"Like the fairy on top of the Christmas tree," Luke laughed, taking in the eclectic mix of colors.

"Thanks for spoiling me with all this bling Burger Boy," she acknowledged delightedly, untangling one curl from the base of the crown.

"Did I have a choice?"

"Do you ever?" Lorelai teased, prompting Luke to scowl pointedly.

Despite his grimace, Luke reached over to trail his fingers through her silky locks, smoothing the wayward curl and murmuring, "You look like a princess."

Lorelai smiled, a soft, arresting smile that forced his heart to skip a beat as he studied her face closely. Never one to behave in a ladylike manner for long, she proceeded to demolish a sizable handful of popcorn, grinning cheekily as her tongue darted out to capture the granules of salt spattering her lips.

Unable to resist her mesmerizing pull, Luke leaned forward to brush his lips lightly against hers, murmuring, "Salty," as he pulled back, a lop-sided grin adorning his face. Not generally one for public displays of affection, he was grateful for the park's dim lighting.

"You got any sweet in there?" Lorelai inquired hopefully, casting a meaningful glance toward the cooler.

Shaking his head in disapproval, Luke flipped open the top of the bag, withdrawing an assortment of candy that he had begrudgingly purchased at Doose's Market.

"Reese's cups!" she exclaimed gleefully, immediately reaching for one and peeling back the wrapper. "You know, you might just be the best boyfriend in the world," she mused thoughtfully, the words muffled as she hastily chewed the sweet treat.

"And you might just be the classiest girlfriend," he smirked, watching in morbid fascination as she attempted to cram a handful of candy corn in her mouth.

Swallowing the sugary treats, she muttered darkly, "And just like that, he loses his number one ranking."

Luke simply smiled brightly, unable to maintain the pretense of disgust any longer.

Their playful banter was soon cut short by the commencement of the movie, a hush falling over the crowd as the audience turned its attention to the big screen. Lorelai shot Luke an excited glance, hugging the popcorn to her side and settling in for an enjoyable few hours.

To say Luke couldn't care less about the movie was an understatement, but he focused his gaze on the screen and forced himself to concentrate. Knowing Lorelai, she'd make at least 16 references to the film on the way home and he'd need to be on his game to even come close to keeping up with her. Every now and again he felt his eyes flick in her direction, watching captivatedly as she mouthed the familiar words of the script.

Engrossed in the plot, she quoted, "If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then…then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name."

Feeling his eyes on her, Lorelai turned her head questioningly toward Luke, prompting his cheeks to flush slightly at being caught staring. Reaching out her hand, she grasped his fingers and gave them a gentle squeeze.

Unwilling to surrender the close contact, Luke shifted closer to her on the rug, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and drawing her lean frame against his side.

"You good?" he whispered.

"Better than good," she confirmed contentedly, welcoming the kiss he dropped in her hair.

And it was the truth. The night had been beyond perfect, she decided, casting her mind back over the evening's activities. It was so _them_. Casual and comfortable and fun, with no airs or graces.

Rather than attempting to impress her with a fancy, overpriced restaurant, Luke had opted for a lively, unpretentious, hole-in-the-wall cantina bursting with character and offering authentic, flavorsome food. The lingering summer weather had allowed them to sit in the outdoor service area, the softly lit cobblestone laneway giving the impression of being in some quaint little town half a world away. Upbeat Latin American music spilled from the nearby speakers and Lorelai let the happiness radiating from her core take hold, beaming non-stop for most of the night. Somehow, the somewhat cramped conditions added to the intimacy of the evening, Lorelai and Luke's knees knocking beneath the handmade pallet table as they hovered over a shared a bowl of chili con queso to start.

It was sitting beneath a bright red umbrella and sipping a beer and a particularly potent batch of sangria respectively that Luke had produced the horoscope from his wallet; a tattered newspaper clipping that had survived years of wear and tear. They reminisced about their first encounter, laughing and teasing and joking as they both privately thanked their lucky stars that the annoying woman had _not_ , in fact, gone away after all.

Watching intently as Lorelai seemed to return from her reverie, Luke rearranged his legs on the picnic rug and whispered, "Welcome back. You seemed pretty far away just now."

"Just thinking," she murmured, a lazy smile appearing on her face.

"All good thoughts, I hope."

She nodded, nuzzling into his chest contentedly, not even fazed that they were breaking her strict movie night rules by talking through the film.

"You hungry?" he queried, well aware that despite her having chowed down on plenty of popcorn and candy on top of her already full stomach, it generally took less than 10 minutes and the lure of something cheesy and delicious for her to shift gears from 'I'm so full I'm never eating again' to 'beam me up Scotty.'

"I'm so full I'm about to burst."

"So I guess you won't want the extra taco I picked up at the restaurant then?" he uttered knowingly, smirking as her head popped up in a combination of surprise and delight. "Figured as much," he chuckled, reaching into the cooler and handing her the doggy bag. "You can thank Rory for that idea."

She proceeded to devour the snack happily, her appreciative moan sending a shiver of desire down Luke's spine. When she held the taco to his mouth in invitation, he willingly took a bite, reveling in their closeness and marveling at how natural it felt to hold her in his arms; how effortless it was to slip into the rhythm of coupledom after so many years flying solo; how seamlessly they fit together.

Before he knew it, the credits had begun to roll and Luke realized with a jolt that more than two hours had passed since they'd arrived at the park. He watched as Lorelai pulled away to stretch languidly, a satisfied smile plastered across her face as she resumed her position snuggled against his side.

"Happy?" he asked simply.

"Mmmhmm," she murmured, breathing in the masculine scent of his sweater. "That movie never gets old."

"I would never have guessed that you'd seen it 100 times before," he chuckled, amused at how she'd been able to silently recite line after line of the script.

"That's nothing. Rory had the lines down pat after about the fifth viewing," Lorelai boasted proudly.

"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

They set about packing any remaining foodstuffs into the cooler, Luke reluctantly suggesting that they join the crowd of people making their way toward the exit to begin the drive home.

Unwilling to bring the night to an end so soon, Lorelai offered him a coy smile and said, "Or we could stay here a little longer. You know, wait it out until the parking lot clears out a bit."

"You're full of good ideas Gilmore," he acknowledged, giving her a gentle squeeze around the waist.

They cuddled close for a further 15 minutes, the parking lot emptying out in no time and leaving the park largely deserted save for a few workers collecting rubbish from the grounds. Flopping down onto her back, Lorelai soaked up the stillness of the night and savored the rich smell of the summer air.

"This is the best part of summer, you know," she murmured happily. "Being able to sit out under the stars and look out at the whole universe without freezing your ass off."

Luke smiled, leaning backward to recline beside her on the rug.

"I thought eating popsicles would have taken out the top spot."

"Oooh, you're right. It's definitely up there. And picking out cute bikinis."

"My personal favorite," he responded dryly. "Although, in all fairness, I look much better in a one-piece."

Laughter bubbled from Lorelai's chest and she raised her head momentarily to glance over at him. "Now that I would pay to see."

Using her hands as a makeshift pillow, she lowered her head once again and turned her attention to the sky.

"I used to do this all the time with Rory when she was a baby."

"Check out the stars, you mean?" he clarified.

"Yeah. On the nights she was really wired, I'd drag a blanket out on the grass outside the potting shed and try to lull her to sleep. It always seemed to calm her."

"It is peaceful," Luke agreed, enjoying her impromptu recollection.

"Mmmhmm. I used to do it before Rory came along too. When it got too much being at home, I'd sneak out in the middle of the night and hop a bus to wherever. Just find a nice spot to kick back and breathe for a few hours."

"That can't have been too safe in the dark," he grumbled.

"Always looking out for me, aren't you Superman?" she smirked, but there was genuine affection in her tone. "It's okay. Spoiler alert: I didn't die."

Luke simply rolled his eyes and grunted disapprovingly. "You shouldn't have been out wandering all alone at night time. Anything could have happened to you."

"You won't hear any regrets from me. After all, that's how I stumbled across Stars Hollow," Lorelai shrugged.

"It was?" Luke asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Yeah. The night I took Rory and left my parents' house, I jumped on the first bus I saw and ended up at that stop on Mulberry Street, just out past the inn. The plan was to rent a room for the night and then get as far away from Connecticut as possible come daylight, but it didn't quite pan out that way."

"What changed your mind?"

Lorelai paused for a moment, carefully considering her answer. "I don't know. Something about the town just struck a chord with me. I remember thinking that I'd never seen a sky look more beautiful than that night…maybe it was just the relief of finally being free. Then it occurred to me that my parents would expect me to run as far as I could; not stay right underneath their noses. They'd never think to look for me so close to Hartford. It all seemed to make sense and it was a hell of a lot cheaper to stay put than to go traipsing across the country."

Taking a moment to ponder her words, it crossed Luke's mind that while Lorelai had desperately wanted to be free of her life in Hartford, perhaps there had been a part of her that had wanted her parents to find her after all. A part that doubted whether they would care enough to look for her across the country. A part that secretly hoped they might cross paths in the street one day and not be ashamed of the person that she was.

Luke exhaled softly, reaching his hand over to entwine his fingers with hers. Capturing her gaze, he offered her a warm smile in the muted evening light and murmured, "I'm glad you changed your mind."

Her resulting smile was luminous; the kind that it up her eyes and made him feel like he held the entire universe in the palm of his hand.

"I am too Luke."

And then she was kissing him softly and her mouth was warm and wet against his, and lying beneath the iridescent blanket of stars, he knew – _knew_ – without a doubt that he had found his true north.

-o-

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

"Relax, Burger Boy. You're not going to get grounded or face the firing squad if you don't have me back by curfew," she smirked, amused at his determination to have her home by 11pm.

"I promised Rory," he reiterated, glancing at the clock on the dash once again and willing it to go slower.

"You know she'll be sound asleep, right? We could be three hours late and she'd have no idea," she pointed out logically.

"Totally _not_ the point," he grumbled.

She continued to watch on in fascination as he deftly navigated through the outskirts of Stars Hollow, his eyes constantly darting between the road, the speedometer and the glowing numbers of the clock.

"Hey, take a breath babe. It's not a big deal," she soothed, reaching over to rub the tension from his shoulder.

"It was a big enough deal to Rory that she felt the need to raise it with me," he murmured quietly, acknowledging her attempt to pacify him with a grateful half-smile. "I just…I want her to know that her blessing means a lot and I'm not taking this for granted. It can't be easy on her to have to share you with somebody else after all this time. She's been so great about it all and I want to make sure she knows she's as important to me as you are. I'm not gonna disregard her wishes just because she's a kid."

"Oh Luke," Lorelai sighed, her heart swelling in her chest. "You keep that up and you're in serious danger of ruining your reputation and having people find out you're one giant softie."

"Am not," he grumbled.

"For what it's worth, Considerate Luke is really working for me. Almost as sexy as Dating Luke," she teased, offering him an exaggerated wink.

"Yes, well, Flirting Lorelai better keep it down over there because I can't afford to be distracted. I've got three minutes to get you home and I'm gonna need every second of it."

As if to prove his point, he edged the gas pedal a little closer to the floor.

When the truck pulled to a stop in Lorelai's front yard, she gestured to the clock and said, "Well, what do you know? Home safe with time to spare. Move over Mario Andretti."

Luke smiled, visibly exhaling with relief. Exiting the vehicle, he made his way around to the passenger-side door, offering her his hand as she stepped down onto the lawn. He passed her the pink crown he'd purchased for Rory, watching as she slipped it into her handbag with a whispered "Thanks," ready for when the younger Gilmore awoke in the morning.

Lorelai looped her arm through his as they ascended the porch steps, a girlish grin adorning her face as she stated softly, "This has been fun."

Luke nodded his head in agreement as they came to a stop at the front door. They broke apart, Luke grasping Lorelai's hands lightly in his as they turned to face one another.

"So…" he began.

"So…" she repeated slowly. "I seem to recall my daughter giving you strict instructions to pack mints tonight for a very specific purpose. I must say, you've been very thorough in adhering to her guidelines so far. Was there anything further you needed to take care of?" she asked, making a point of batting her eyelids flirtatiously.

"Well now that you mention it, there is one thing springing to mind..." he trailed off. Leaning forward slightly, he whispered in her ear, "I'm nothing if not obedient."

"Well, by all means, don't let me keep you from your work Mr Danes," Lorelai replied, giggling.

He offered her a fleeting smile before leaning in and capturing her mouth with his. It started out soft and sweet, gradually growing in intensity. Lightly running his tongue along Lorelai's lower lip, Luke waited for her invitation, moaning appreciatively when she willingly parted her lips. The kisses came hot and fast and Lorelai felt herself sinking into his embrace as he held her to him. The need for air getting the better of them, they finally broke apart, Lorelai burying her face in the hollow of his neck.

"I want to ask you in," she whispered, somewhat out of breath.

Stroking her curls lightly and straightening her now off-center crown, he simply murmured, "Rory," with a sigh.

"No, I'm Lorelai," she said, drawing back and pointing to her chest teasingly. "Lo-re-lai," she sounded out slowly. "Rory's the short one. Much better manners, although I must warn you, there's a bit of an age gap and she's got some questionable taste in music that I haven't quite been able to beat out of her yet…"

"Lorelai," he growled pointedly.

"Do you want to come in?" she asked boldly, her eyes darting up to meet his.

"Yes," Luke responded immediately. "But I shouldn't," he added in a hushed tone, pressing his lips to her forehead. "You have rules, remember?"

"I hate rules," she whispered resignedly, recognizing the validity of his words.

"Me too."

Reaching down to cup her cheek, Luke kissed her sweetly one last time before murmuring, "I should go before it becomes impossible to walk away."

Lorelai nodded, withdrawing her hands from his chest and reaching for the door handle, her eyes never leaving his. It was only when they noticed Mia's head appear in the lounge room window that they found the impetus to part ways.

"Thanks again Luke. I had a great night," she stated, backing into the now open doorway.

"I did too," he admitted, imparting one of those rare, dazzling Luke smiles. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"You can count on it. Have the coffee ready Burger Boy."

-o-

Lorelai felt the wind knocked out of her as the streak of pink and white collided with her torso and sent her careening backwards into the kitchen bench.

Powerless against the death grip engulfing her, she simply focused on remaining upright and tuning out the high-pitched squeal emanating from the crazy person hugging her waist.

"You're finally with Luke. I'm so happy for you!" Sookie squealed, somehow managing to tighten her stranglehold. For someone who was all of five-foot-tall, Lorelai noted the chef could sure pack a punch.

It was the morning after her date with Luke and she'd deliberately arrived at work early to dissect every glorious detail with Sookie. Feeling the pressure lift from against her body as her friend stepped back, Lorelai gingerly flexed her right hand which throbbed painfully from the impact of their collision. Convinced that her motor function was in order, she finally allowed herself to take in Sookie's beaming face, her eyes alight and her signature dimples more pronounced than ever.

"Tell me everything. Start from the beginning and don't leave anything out!" Sookie pressed eagerly, steering Lorelai toward a stool in the empty kitchen and unceremoniously plonking a cup of coffee in front of her.

"Well, we went on a date last night," Lorelai began.

"A date! Oh, this is so exciting!" Sookie exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

"But I guess you could say we kind of had an unofficial date before that."

"Oooh! An unofficial date!"

"And we sort of decided to give this a try a few weeks before that."

"A few weeks!"

"You know Sook, repeating everything I say doesn't make it any more real," Lorelai smirked.

"Oh hush! You owe me a bit of excitement. I've been waiting for this day _forever_."

That pulled Lorelai up short. "You have?" she asked in bewilderment, her brow furrowed.

"Me and everyone else in this town. I was beginning to think you'd never open your eyes."

"That's what Rory said," Lorelai muttered.

"Yeah well, it's going to cause quite the stir when word gets out. Jerry Cutler had some big money riding on you guys not getting together until Rory was in college. _College_ , can you believe that?"

"What do you mean big money? There's a _betting pool_?" Lorelai asked incredulously.

Sookie coughed awkwardly, her eyes widening as she realized she'd said too much. "Er…no. No betting pool…"

"Sookie!"

"It was just a bit of fun. Nobody really expected the stakes would get so high. It wasn't until Archie Skinner started speculating on what religion you'd christen your kids that the bets really started rolling in…"

"Our _kids_? Hang on, did you say Archie Skinner?" Lorelai fumed. "Since when is a reverend allowed to _gamble_?"

"Well arguably he's got the big man upstairs on his side so his chances of taking out the pool were pretty solid…" Sookie began, trailing off and lowering her eyes repentantly when she noticed her friend's incensed expression.

"I can't believe this!" Lorelai raged. "Who else was involved?"

Teetering awkwardly from foot to foot, the chef mumbled, "Actually, it's probably easier to ask who _wasn't_ involved unless you've got a lot of time on your hands…"

"Oh my God! Are you serious? The whole town was in on this?"

"Well, technically Rabbi Barans declined on religious grounds and Taylor was kept in the dark in case he shut it down."

"Gee, that makes me feel so much better."

"No, don't get upset honey. I'm sure there are more that will spring to mind," Sookie added desperately. "Bootsy for one."

Her face deep in thought, the chef grimaced as she added, "actually no, he never had two dimes to rub together after blowing his money on booze each week so he couldn't afford to enter. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure he did try to bet his grandmother in place of currency so maybe that's not my best example."

"Sookie!"

"Ooh, I'm forgetting Mia! She never really felt comfortable about the whole thing so she didn't get involved."

"Good to know this town has at least one paragon of virtue," Lorelai muttered disgruntledly. "Leaving aside the fact that my love life has somehow become Stars Hollow's most watched sport, how the hell is it that everyone else seemed to see this relationship coming but me?"

"Well honey, it has been kind of obvious for a while now," Sookie pointed out. At Lorelai's perplexed stare, she added quietly, "Surely, you must have noticed the way he's always looked at you."

"What are you talking about? Looked at me how?"

Sookie sighed, taking in Lorelai's confused expression. "Oh sweetie, you really haven't seen it, have you? All that time. The poor guy's had a thing for you since day one. You could be the female Jack the Ripper and I think Luke would still look at you like all his Christmases had come at once."

Lorelai paused, Sookie's words echoing around her mind. While her initial reaction was to deny the accusations, now that she mulled it over, it did seem to make sense. Luke's admission of 'you've been in my head for a really long time' all those weeks ago. The horoscope. His willingness to come whenever she called even before they were together, no matter how trivial the matter or what time of day. How could she have been so clueless?

As if reading Lorelai's thoughts, Sookie patted her knee gently, murmuring, "So you didn't know. No biggy, right? It's all worked out now anyway. Maybe you just weren't ready to see it before."

Lorelai sighed, silently cursing her own stupidity. Well, she'd noticed him now and she'd be damned if she let herself be blinded again.

"So…" Sookie pressed. "You mentioned something about a date. Care to bring me up to speed?"

Her demeanor immediately brightening, Lorelai proceeded to recount all of the key events leading up to Luke walking her to her door the night before.

"So how was it?" Sookie asked boldly, one eyebrow raised suggestively as she watched Lorelai chow through the plate of eggs benedict she'd placed in front of her. "I mean, we've all long suspected with a body like that, Luke would be some kind of sex god, but did he live up to expectations?"

"Sookie!" Lorelai chastised half-heartedly, laughing as she speared more food with her fork.

"Oh come on, we're all friends here. Give a girl some details. God knows I'm getting no action of my own right now. If I can't live vicariously through you, what hope have I got?"

The chef leaned in conspiratorially, a pleading look in her eyes.

"If you must know, it was a non-event," Lorelai gabbled through a mouthful of eggs.

"Oh, you mean he couldn't…" Sookie stated leadingly, finishing her sentence with a grimace.

"No!" Lorelai refuted, quick to correct her friend's misconception. Luke would kill her if he knew they were discussing this. "I…I'm sure he can," she assured her, an uncharacteristic blush creeping onto her cheeks. "We just didn't get the opportunity."

"No sex," Sookie uttered dully.

Lorelai laughed. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were more disappointed than me."

"But…why no sex?" she implored, her shoulders slumping. "I thought you said the night went perfectly."

"It did. There was just the minor detail of my 10-year-old daughter asleep downstairs. I am seriously regretting the whole 'no guys staying over' rule."

"But Luke's stayed the night before, right? When Rory had the chicken pox?"

"Bit of a difference between him innocently falling asleep downstairs and purposefully accepting an invitation to my bedroom for a night of no-holds-barred sex," Lorelai snorted, shoveling the last of the eggs into her mouth.

"Ouch, that's tough," Sookie sympathized. "So how'd Luke take it?"

"Like a gentleman. I was practically ready to rip his clothes off then and there and he was the one who reminded me of my own house rule."

"No way!" Sookie crowed, gob smacked.

"Scout's honor. I almost said to hell with the rule book and dragged him up the stairs."

"That would've made for quite a show for poor Mia."

"I'll say," Lorelai giggled, setting down her cutlery and dabbing at her lips with a napkin. "Wow, it just hit me. I'm a total hussy aren't I? Putting out on the first date. Call me Vivian Ward."

"All depends on how you look at it, sweetie. If you think of how long you and Luke have been friends and how much sexual tension there has been between you two since you met, it's probably equivalent to the 300th date. You're well overdue. And let's be honest, I don't know many girls that would knock back that man and his fine, fine ass. It's practically a crime _not_ to go there on the first date."

"It is a great ass, "Lorelai conceded, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Well, Skanky McSkankerson, need I remind you that technically, as much as you tried to put out on the first date, follow-through apparently isn't your strong point? What exactly are you planning to do about that when there's always going to be this pesky little thing called responsible parenting getting in your way?"

Lorelai shrugged. "I don't know but believe me when I say, I need to sort it ASAP. The man is sexy as hell and it's driving me crazy. I'm liable to jump him over the diner counter at breakfast if I don't find a solution soon."

"Completely understandable," Sookie nodded. "You can't just do it there once everything's closed up for the night?"

"In the diner?" Lorelai asked disbelievingly. "Have you met Luke? He'd have a pink fit!"

"Not in the diner!" Sookie clarified, laughing. "Although, hey, never say never. I meant his apartment."

"Oh, yeah, of course. Maybe we'll have better luck next time we go out. I'll just need to sort a sitter and have a word to Rory about the non-essential nature of curfews. Mommy needs a little action."

"Oooh! I'll babysit for you! Name the day and time and I'll be there. I could even stay over at yours or Rory could come to my place. We can make it a proper sleepover…you know, have a pillow fight, braid each other's hair."

"Wow, you take your wingman responsibilities very seriously," Lorelai commented, arching her eyebrow.

"Hey, at least one of us will be getting some lovin'. Better one than none. Seriously honey, go out and have some fun."

"You're sure about this?" Lorelai queried skeptically, unwilling to get her hopes up prematurely. "Suddenly you've just become my pimp."

"Yeah well, you're looking at the head cheerleader for Team Luke and Lorelai. Believe me, I'm sure. And besides, I love spending time with Rory so it's a win-win."

Springing from her stool, Lorelai danced around the kitchen bench, throwing her arms around her friend and voicing her appreciation at a mile a minute.

"Have I told you how amazing you are?" Lorelai gushed gratefully.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the next eligible young bachelor you come across," Sookie replied with a wave of her hand. "Go on, get out of here and call your guy. I think you have a date to tee up."

Lorelai began to bustle from the room excitedly, stopping just outside the doorway as a thought struck her.

"Hey Sook?" she asked, popping her head back inside the kitchen. "Out of interest, how did you fare in the betting pool?"

Ducking her head abashedly, the chef muttered, "Once word gets out, I'll have lost a clean $150. Would it have killed you to have held out another six months?"

-o-

Sunday dawned warm and sunny, the intoxicating scent of late-blooming azaleas assaulting Lorelai's senses as she meandered toward the middle of town. Having dropped Rory at a school friend's birthday party, she found herself contemplating how best to occupy her time. It was rare she had a few hours to herself, and with Luke rostered to work most of the day, there was little chance of making the most of some one-on-one time.

Eager to see him nonetheless and get her mid-morning caffeine hit, she picked up her pace and hurried toward the familiar yellow coffee cup sign swaying in the breeze. It was only when she was within meters of the doorway that she registered the exasperated tone that signaled Taylor's attempts to get her attention.

"Young lady, do not walk away from me," he chastised, panting slightly as he scurried toward her, brandishing a stack of colored paper in one hand.

"Oh, hi Taylor, "Lorelai greeted, coming to a stop and inwardly cursing the man keeping her from her beloved coffee pot.

"Well, thank heavens I finally caught you. I'll have you know I have been trying to get hold of you all morning. I went to the inn; I called your house and now I've been following you for the last block and a half."

"You know, that would be considered stalking in at least three states," she quipped dryly.

Shooting her an aggravated glare, he ignored her comment, instead drawing her attention to the pile of flyers clasped in his right hand.

"As a long-standing Stars Hollow citizen Lorelai I'm sure you'll be aware we have the Summer Send-off festival coming up shortly," he explained impatiently.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world Taylor. Rory will be there dressed in a sun costume as promised."

"Yes, well. It's crucial we have the full support of the town to attract as many tourists as possible, so I'm counting on you to help spread the word," he declared authoritatively, tapping the flyers with a pointed look.

"Sure Taylor; I can put a few up around the Independence Inn," she agreed easily, hoping to end the conversation as soon as possible and quell her caffeine craving.

"Well, actually, I already left a stack at the inn when I went looking for you earlier. I thought perhaps you could put a few up around the town. You know, in some of the establishments frequented by tourists. _Luke's_ diner for example…" he trailed off, his eyes darting away from her as he puffed his chest out self-importantly.

"Oh well, you know Luke. He's not one for town events so I don't like your chances of him agreeing to pin them up. But I can swing past the dance studio and Andrew's book store and drop a few off for you," she offered helpfully.

"I can't help but think that you don't have the best interests of this town at heart young lady," Taylor reprimanded. "It's one thing that Luke has such blatant disregard for any kind of community spirit but I would have expected much more from you. If you have any kind of loyalty to this town then I trust you'll find a way to get these flyers in front of the diner patrons."

Eager to put an end to the conversation, Lorelai simply offered a halfhearted, "Sure, leave it with me Taylor," before accepting the flyers and hastily excusing herself. He made to follow her, but thankfully Kirk stumbled down the diner steps at that moment, diverting Taylor's attention as the door slammed behind him. The weedy-looking man shot a reproachful look over his shoulder before straightening his collar and tightening his hold on the black briefcase clasped in his hand.

Not bothering to ask what he'd done to get thrown out this time, Lorelai seized the opportunity to escape, quickly mounting the diner steps and slipping through the door.

At the sound of the bells, she heard Luke's infuriated voice boom from the kitchen.

"I meant what I said. Get out and stay out," he growled.

"Wow, gold star for customer service today," she remarked sarcastically, taking up residence on the stool closest to the register – the only available seat in the diner.

"Oh, hey," he greeted, poking his head around the door frame and offering her a fleeting smile. "Sorry, I thought you were Kirk."

"Sadly, I'm not as pretty but I'm workin' on it."

Drumming her fingers on the counter as she waited for him to pour her cup of coffee, Lorelai cast an eye around the floor, commenting, "Boy is it packed in here today."

"Tell me about it," Luke grimaced, grabbing hold of the pot. "It's been like this the last few days. Suddenly every man and his dog wants to hang out at the diner."

"Good for business I guess."

"Hardly. They're taking up my tables, drinking my free coffee refills and barely buying a thing. I've got half a mind to kick everyone out," he murmured, lowering his voice so only she could hear.

Lorelai accepted the steaming mug of coffee enthusiastically, inhaling the familiar scent and smiling contentedly as she swallowed her first mouthful.

"Damn that's good," she sighed. She held his gaze a little longer than usual, but forced herself to draw her eyes away after a few seconds. While Rory, Sookie and Mia all knew about their budding relationship, they hadn't mentioned anything to the rest of the town as yet.

They made idle chit chat before Luke disappeared to the kitchen to prepare Lorelai's order.

Continuing to sip her coffee, Lorelai couldn't shake the sudden feeling of being watched. Before she had a chance to investigate further, the sound of Miss Patty's greeting had her spinning on her stool.

"Lorelai, how are you honey? It's been a while since I've seen you and that beautiful daughter of yours."

"Oh hi Patty. I'm great thanks. Same old, same old," she explained casually. What's new in your world? Sinjin still desperate to win you back?"

"Says I'm the Elizabeth Taylor to his Richard Burton," the older woman purred, fluttering her eyelids coquettishly.

"Ah well, treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen. That's what I always say."

"Exactly. You know, I have a feeling the fourth husband might be the charm."

"In that case, I should really get my skates on. I've got a few to work through."

Chuckling appreciatively, Miss Patty soon turned her attention to the upcoming dance recital Rory was participating in.

"You know dear, I could really use a hand with theming this year. The rehearsals take up so much time that before you know it, the big day's upon you. I don't suppose…"

"Say no more Patty. I'm happy to help with costumes. Whatta we got this time? Quakers? Sugar plum fairies? Sunflowers?"

"60s hippies."

"On it. Leave it with me."

"Actually, it's the sets that are the real challenge. You wouldn't happen to know any strapping young men that are handy with a toolkit would you?" she asked nonchalantly, although Lorelai couldn't help noticing the way her eyes flitted toward the kitchen.

"I don't know. Can you assure me it won't end in a sexual harassment suit?" Lorelai joked, all-too-aware of Miss Patty's taste for anything male with a heartbeat.

"A girl never makes a promise she can't keep," Miss Patty winked. "Say, Luke is quite skilled with that kind of thing isn't he? Maybe you could work your womanly charms on him and see if he could spare a few hours."

"Why don't you go ahead and ask him while you're here?" Lorelai prompted, gesturing toward where Luke was manning the grill.

"Oh well honey. You'd have much better luck than I would."

"Why would you think that?" Lorelai frowned, a quizzical look on her face.

It was then that she saw the knowing look flicker briefly in Miss Patty's eyes. Heard her awkward cough as her eyes darted around the diner, looking anywhere but at Lorelai and the kitchen.

Waving one hand dismissively, Patty recovered quickly and uttered, "Oh no reason. I mean with a face like yours, what man could possibly say no?"

Lorelai's eyes narrowed and she finally turned her attention to the remaining patrons in the diner, watching as many of them hastily bowed their heads or looked out the window, pretending they hadn't been watching her every move.

Confused, it took Lorelai a moment to connect the dots, by which time Miss Patty had excused herself and made her way back to the table she shared with Babette.

Staring down into her coffee mug, Lorelai felt her mouth opening and closing as she processed the thoughts swirling around her head.

Patty knew. They knew. Somehow, they all knew about her and Luke.

A moment later Luke appeared from the kitchen brandishing a hot plate and slipping it in front of her on the counter.

"French toast, side of bacon," he deadpanned, setting cutlery down beside it.

Noticing the wide eyes she was purposefully directing at him, he paused and asked, "Are you okay?"

Lorelai's stare continued to bore into him, trying to communicate her new discovery without saying it within earshot of the fellow townies.

"They know," she mouthed silently, subtly tilting her head to the side.

"Sorry?" Luke pressed, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"They know," she mouthed again. "About us. They know."

"Will you just speak like a normal person?" he hissed exasperatedly, unable to make out what she was saying.

She tried gesturing between them pointedly, but at Luke's puzzled expression she huffed in frustration. Rising from her stool, she rounded the counter and tugged on his elbow insistently, dragging him toward the storeroom.

"You can't be behind the counter Lorelai," he barked loudly, throwing a dish towel over his shoulder.

"Quit whining and follow me," she said between gritted teeth, aware that all eyes were now on the two of them.

The minute she closed the door behind them and released her hold on the sleeve of his flannel, he sputtered, "Are you having a _stroke_? What's with the crazy head jerking and miming?"

"They know," she hissed.

"Know what?" he asked, perplexed.

"About this. Us. That we're together."

"Oh," he exhaled in relief. "I thought the zombie apocalypse was here the way you were carrying on."

"It might as well be," she muttered. "Wait…you don't care?" she queried, pulled up short by his reaction.

"Why would I?" he shrugged. "Word was bound to get out sooner or later. You were the one that wanted to keep this under wraps for a while. Now that we've broken the news to Rory and she's heard it from us rather than someone else, I couldn't care less if the gossip brigade talks. "

Lorelai calmed at his words, quickly realizing he was right.

"So they know," she stated casually, as if testing whether she was truly okay with the concept. "They know and it's no big deal."

"Lorelai?"

"No big deal, you're totally right."

"You're freaking out, aren't you?" he pressed, taking a step closer to her and imploring her to look at him. He squeezed her forearm gently, remembering her reason for wanting to keep the relationship private when they first got together all those weeks ago. Her fear of screwing up; her determination to learn how to let someone else in; her longing to discover how to be in a functional adult relationship without the added pressure of town gossips watching her every move.

"I…actually, I'm not. I'm totally not freaking out," she breathed incredulously, almost as if she couldn't believe it herself.

"Lorelai?"

And then she was giggling, her body overcome with spasms of laughter as the reality sunk in.

"I'm not freaking out. I am in a real relationship and I'm not freaking out," she giggled wildly.

"Kinda sounds like you're freaking out…" Luke muttered, eyeing her skeptically.

"No, don't you see? Normally I would be running for the hills right now. Anyone gets too close and I bail…that's what I do. I thought it would be hard to invite you into my life or to let anyone be a part of mine and Rory's little bubble. But it's actually been kind of _easy_ with you. It feels natural. I'm not freaking out because it feels _right_ , Luke," she giggled, tears of laughter now beginning to seep from the corners of her eyes. After a moment's pause she added, "Oh god, and now you think I'm crazy," prompting her to laugh harder.

He eyed her curiously for a moment, his hands perched on his hips as he seemed to assess whether he needed to call the men in the white coats.

"For the record, I always thought you were crazy," Luke growled, drawing her to him and allowing his own chuckle to escape at her antics. "I don't pretend to understand the inner workings of your mind but I kinda like it, crazy parts and all."

She giggled against his chest, burying her head in the soft cotton of his flannel.

"So are we gonna do a bit to give them something to talk about?"

"Huh?"

"I know! We go back out there as normal and then when I ask for a coffee refill you jump over the counter, take me in your arms and kiss me senseless."

"Not going to happen," he stated dryly.

"Party pooper," she scowled. Okay, how about we…"

"No," he said firmly, giving her a stern look. "I said I didn't care if they knew. I didn't say I wanted to make a Broadway production about it."

"Fine," she sighed. Nuzzling deeper into his chest she snickered, "I should have realized something was up sooner. Miss Patty just tried to get me to rope you into building sets for her dance recital."

"She what?"

"And Mrs. Lanahan casually mentioned yesterday that her fence palings were in need of repair if I happened to know of anybody capable of fixing them. And on my way here, Taylor tried to get me to put flyers up in the diner to promote the Summer Send-off festival."

"He did _what_?" Luke fumed, always one to take the bait when it came to Taylor.

"Those cheeky shitheads knew and they all tried to work it to their advantage," she pointed out, one last giggle breaking free.

"That would explain Kirk," he muttered, shaking his head.

Drawing her head back, she gave him an inquiring look, prompting him to elaborate.

"He came in this morning trying to sell me a range of…er…wares, shall we say."

"Wares?" she asked quizzically. "What kind of wares?"

With a resigned sigh and a raised eyebrow he enunciated, "The protection kind."

It took a moment for the penny to drop, but when it did, Lorelai couldn't help the splutter of laughter that feel from her lips. "You mean he tried to load you up with Trojans Burger Boy?"

"Flavored ones, glow ones, vibrating ones; you name it, he had it," Luke groaned embarrassedly, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks. "I mean honestly, who needs them to _glow_? I'd only dragged him halfway to the door when he pulled out the novelty handcuffs."

Lorelai broke into howls of laughter, clutching at her stomach as she tried to draw breath. "Oh that is too funny. Your face would have been priceless."

"I'm going to tear him apart limb by limb," he seethed. Feeling his irritation building, he added, "Taylor too. That's it, I'm going to strangle them with my bare hands just as soon as I kick everyone out of the diner."

"Oh my God. Everyone's in the diner. It all makes sense now," she said wide-eyed.

"What are you on about?"

"The crowd of people not buying anything. Everyone watching me like a hawk when I came in. They were watching _us_ ," she explained, her mind racing a mile a minute.

"Why the hell would they care?"

"Because they've got a lot of money riding on it," Lorelai muttered, shaking her head as it all became clear to her. At Luke's bewildered expression, she clarified, "apparently these supposedly upstanding people that we call our friends and neighbors have been using us for sport. The betting stakes are pretty high."

"I'm not following," Luke said slowly, confusion evident in his eyes.

"Sookie said there's a betting pool and half the town has been wagering a packet on when we'd get together. My guess is that they've somehow found out about us and they're here for confirmation. No one's gonna pay up without cold, hard proof."

She felt his spine stiffen and his muscles tense as he processed her words, allowing the ripple of indignation to consume him.

"They did _what_?" he bellowed, one fist clenching at his side. Without waiting for a response, he drew back from her, squeezing her hand as he hissed, "You wanted a Broadway production? You're about to get one. I'm gonna kill every last one of them."

Striding purposefully toward the store room door, he flung it open and marched out into the diner, anger seeping from his every pore.

Unwilling to miss a moment of the action, Lorelai scampered toward the door gleefully, arriving just in time to hear Luke declare, "Game's up. You can all go to hell. Everybody OUT."

He hurriedly began working his way around the room, loading half-drunk cups of coffee in his arms and dumping them unceremoniously in the sink, the resulting clatter indicating at least one had broken.

Looming imposingly, his arms gestured wildly as he ranted, "You think you can come here and take up my tables and drink my free coffee refills while you wait to see whether it's pay day? Well I've got news for you. My private life is exactly that: _private_. You don't get to bet on it; you don't get to pass judgement; you don't get to comment because it is none of your goddamn business. Whatever relationship Lorelai and I have is between us and us alone," he roared, a vein pulsing visibly in his temple.

"So you admit it Sugar," Babette rasped eagerly. "You and Lorelai are in a relationship."

Shooting her an irate glare, Luke stomped towards the doorway, wrenching the diner door open with a clang as he thundered, "That's it. I mean it. Everybody out NOW."

Ignoring his proclamation, Gypsy called from a side table, "Easy Luke. All we're asking for is a simple yes or no. It's just a silly bet."

"You want something to bet on? Bet on this: If you don't all get the hell out of my diner right now, I'm gonna kick your sorry asses all the way to China before you can say 'Jackpot'."

Scowling as they blinked back at him indifferently and continued to remain in their seats, he yelled, "Fine. You know what? I don't care. Here's your goddamn answer."

Yanking the dish towel from his shoulder, he slammed it down on the counter top before turning on his heel and striding determinedly toward Lorelai. Grabbing her by the hips, his biceps flexed as he drew her flush against him in one swift movement, landing his lips squarely on hers. He kissed her hard and rough, his tongue battling with hers momentarily before he pulled back, his chest heaving.

A chorus of cheers and wolf whistles echoed around the diner and Lorelai smiled a brilliant smile as her eyes connected with Luke's, his hands still holding tight to her hips.

"On you Dollface!" Babette shouted, clapping her hands in delight.

"Why are you celebrating?" Andrew asked her disbelievingly. "Your money was on it happening a year from now."

"Ah money, schmoney. I'm just glad they're finally together," she admitted happily.

"Pay up everybody," Miss Patty cooed, rubbing her hands together delightedly. Begrudgingly, Andrew pulled a wad of bills from his wallet, many of the other diner patrons following suit.

"I've never been so happy to hear Kirk was right about something," Miss Patty gushed.

"Wait. _Kirk_ was the one who told you?" Lorelai asked, perplexed, reluctantly drawing her eyes away from Luke. "How could he have possibly known?"

"Oh he picked up work at the outdoor cinema in Litchfield. Brings his tally of jobs to 43 I believe. He saw you two getting cozy when he was cleaning up the grounds after the movie screening. Lucky, lucky girl Lorelai," Miss Patty purred suggestively.

"I'm gonna kill him," Luke vowed vehemently.

Spying the stack of cash in Miss Patty's hand as she waved it triumphantly above her head, Luke released Lorelai from his grasp and attempted one last rebuke, plucking the winnings from her fingers and tucking them neatly into his back pocket.

"You know what? By the sounds of it, you've got plenty more of that on the way once word gets out to everyone who _couldn't_ fit in my diner these last few days. This can cover the tourist takings I missed out on thanks to your little town camp-out," he grumbled. "And I was serious about the getting out thing."

Laughing at Patty's disgruntled expression, Lorelai wound her way to Luke's side, wrapping one arm around his waist. She stood on her tip-toes and leaned into his ear, whispering boldly, "Maybe we should get Kirk to bring his wares back and put that money to good use."

Watching his cheeks redden and his jaw gape in shock, she giggled happily, patting his chest and winking mischievously as she said, "For what it's worth, I like the glow ones."

-o-

 **Hooray! Our favorites finally got to have a proper date! What did you think?**

 **So here's the million-dollar question: Now that Luke and Lorelai are moving forward with their relationship, how do you feel about me putting that 'M' rating to good use? So far More Than Enough has been pretty tame but I'm now leaning towards spicing it up a little where the storyline calls for it. Given that this story has been marked 'M' all along I'm thinking everyone reading it isn't opposed to a little adult content but I thought I better check first (once my mind hits the gutter, there's no telling where it will go!) So...can you handle the occasional shot of smuttiness thrown in the mix? Or should I just skip right on over the bedroom scenes? Let me know your thoughts :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note/content warning:** Hi guys, well judging by your feedback following the last chapter, it's safe to say your minds have no problems joining mine (and Lorelai's) in the gutter! I asked how you felt about me putting the 'M' rating to good use and the vote was a resounding yes. With that in mind, please be aware that this chapter does contain a sizable amount of mature content, so if there's anyone reading this that's uncomfortable with that kind of thing, I'd recommend turning back now. You have been warned!

-o-

 **Chapter 12**

"Are we there yet?"

Luke tore his eyes from the stretch of road momentarily to shoot Lorelai an irritated glare.

"What are you? Seven? Keep your pants on," he grunted, returning his attention to the stream of fast-moving traffic in front of them. "How about I _tell_ you when we're there so you don't feel the need to keep asking every three seconds?"

She sighed pointedly, drumming her fingers on the dash of the truck and doing her best to keep occupied as they hurtled toward their mystery destination. Sookie had followed through on her offer to babysit Rory for the evening and Luke had seized the opportunity to take Lorelai on a mini road trip – an idea he was quickly beginning to reconsider as she continued to fidget beside him.

Unable to keep still, Lorelai reached for the dial on the radio for the umpteenth time, the crackle of static filling the cabin as she siphoned through the various channels. When she begrudgingly settled on a country song that sounded very much to Luke like a cat being strangled, he raised his eyebrows before commenting, "Really? That's what you're going with?"

Lorelai huffed and flopped back against the bench seat, muttering, "Anything's better than talk back. We really need to get you a music collection for the truck."

Luke smirked, surveying the traffic around him before signaling right and taking the exit onto the I-95.

"Aha! You're taking me to New Haven!" she exclaimed, taking in the road signs around them.

"You sure about that?" he countered, enjoying keeping her guessing. "Who says I'm not just going this way to throw you off the scent?"

"Fat chance of that," she scoffed knowingly. "You can only put up with me bugging you to tell me where we're going for so long. You're not gonna make this car ride any longer than it needs to be."

Conceding her point, Luke chuckled softly, continuing to navigate his way toward the coastline. They drove into Old Saybrook, Lorelai clapping her hands delightedly as she exclaimed, "Oh my God! Are we going to Harvey's Beach?"

Luke couldn't help the smile from spreading across his face. He shook his head and answered, "Thought about it but I couldn't risk losing you to the Emilio Estevez lookalike at the snack stand."

Lorelai laughed happily, raising her eyebrow as she pointed out, "If he's still working there after all these years then he's got some issues with career progression."

"I'll say."

Making a point of flicking her hair back over her shoulder, Lorelai lifted her nose in the air in jest as she said, "In any case, my tastes have matured. I've moved on to sexy diner men these days…snack stands are _so_ 1980."

"Glad to hear it."

They continued to cruise along the strip of road, Luke finally pulling into a coastal village just beyond Harvey's Beach. The town was dotted with lively bars and restaurants, and while it wasn't as crowded with tourists as its neighbor, the area still thrummed with life.

Luke deliberately hadn't made reservations, offering Lorelai the opportunity to select her preferred place to dine for the evening. She deliberated earnestly, easily suckered in by the fairy lights adorning one establishment, but quickly changing her mind when she spotted an all-you-can-eat buffet and view of the water from another.

She finally settled on a semi-casual seafood restaurant with an expansive wooden deck overlooking the ocean and they spent the evening chatting amicably and sampling crab ravioli, lobster and scallops over a bottle of house wine. As always, Lorelai managed to find room for dessert, indulging in a generous serving of gelato before eagerly agreeing to Luke's suggestion of taking a walk along the water.

Wordlessly reaching for her hand as they exited the restaurant, Luke entwined his fingers with hers and meandered toward the beach, the sound of the crashing waves becoming louder with every step. Their footsteps echoed against the wooden boardwalk as they moved further away from the hustle and bustle of eateries, the occasional street light illuminating their path and casting a dim glow over the water as they approached the deserted pier. When they reached the end and could walk no further they both succumbed to the magnetic pull that had surrounded them all night and melded in to one another. Luke's arms encircled Lorelai's waist and her head instinctively tucked to his chest, her eyes lifting to capture his gaze.

They stared at each other unblinkingly for a time before Luke finally tucked a loose curl behind her hear and murmured softly, "I'm so glad we're doing this. I'm so glad you said yes to giving us a try."

She simply cupped his cheek and smiled a soft smile, her eyes still lost in his. Giving themselves over to the moment, they began to sway gently from side to side, never tearing their eyes from one another as they held each other close. Lorelai's fingers traced soft circles on the back of his neck and they continued to rock ever-so-slightly as if moving to their own private beat.

He could have kissed her, but there was something strangely intimate about simply holding her and maintaining an unwavering connection with their eyes. He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, content in the knowledge that he could hold her for an eternity and never tire of having her wrapped in his embrace.

When Lorelai finally closed her eyes and buried her head against the hard wall of his chest, Luke sighed appreciatively, tightening his grasp on her and nuzzling her hair.

She breathed in deeply, reveling in the masculine scent of aftershave mixed with something spicy – cinnamon perhaps? – and another scent she couldn't name, but knew was uniquely him. He'd clearly showered before coming to pick her up because she couldn't detect the faint aroma of pie pastry and cheeseburgers that usually clung to him after working in the diner.

She placed a soft kiss against the cotton of his shirt, exhaling contentedly as she twisted her cheek to rest against him and felt the warmth emanating from his skin.

It wasn't until they registered voices a short distance away that they reluctantly drew apart, silently agreeing to keep moving. Luke once again captured her hand in his and led them off the pier and down onto the beach.

"S'pose I should show you what I brought you here to see," he said softly, loathe to do anything but hold her to him. "It looks impressive in the dark."

Lorelai couldn't help the smirk that passed over her face, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she uttered her trademark, "Dirty."

He shot her a look of disapproval, shaking his head but feeling his lips tug up at the corners nonetheless. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

Pausing to take off their shoes as they hit the sand, Luke gave Lorelai's hand a gentle squeeze before directing her toward a cluster of rocks tucked away further up the beach. He guided her up onto them, digging around in his pocket for a moment before producing a small flashlight. While the three-quarter-full moon was enough to light their path and make out most shapes on the beach, it did little to illuminate the depths of the tide pools. With a soft click, the beam of light streamed from the flashlight and Luke directed it toward the closest tide pool, watching as a handful of crabs made a hasty retreat into a nearby rock crevice.

"Oooh tide pools! Are we going exploring Burger Boy?"

"Yeah," he affirmed, tucking his hands into his pockets as he nodded. "This part of the beach always seems to be packed with lots of colorful marine life. Thought you'd like it." He handed her the flashlight with a lop-sided smile and watched as she clambered along the rocks excitedly. Crouching over a fairly sizable pool, she shone the torch into its depths and exclaimed, "Luke, come look! This one has sparkly little fish and those weird squishy things."

Spurred on by her enthusiasm, he moved to her side, letting her point out the various creatures she had spotted. They moved from pool to pool, Lorelai clapping her hands delightedly when she discovered something new or particularly beautiful.

Her squeal of glee pierced the evening stillness when she spied a brightly colored starfish, her hand gesturing wildly for Luke to come and look.

He smirked when he caught sight of it, taking in Lorelai's broad smile and the air of excitement that surrounded her.

"You know they're pests in these parts, right?" he goaded.

"What? How could they be pests? They're so pretty!"

"Damn things raid all the oyster beds," he explained gruffly. "The oyster farmers hate them."

Directing her attention to the starfish, Lorelai cooed, "Don't worry little guy, I still like you."

She trailed her hand back and forth through the water for a minute before saying, "I wish Rory could have seen this. She would have loved it."

"We'll bring her out here," Luke promised.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We can make a day of it. Pack the beach gear, go swimming, get burgers from the kiosk."

"Build a sandcastle?" she wagered, her eyes bright.

"Sure, why not?"

 _Like a real family_ , Lorelai thought but didn't dare verbalize, her smile luminous.

Shifting her gaze to meet Luke's from her crouched position, Lorelai inquired, "Did you come here for family holidays?"

Luke shrugged. "Mainly day trips. If we wanted to get away for a week or more we'd go to my parents' cabin a little further away."

"That must have been nice," Lorelai acknowledged softly.

"Yeah, it was. Lot of good memories made there."

"And here?" she pressed. "Do you have good memories of your visits?"

"You mean other than my sister picking up someone's dirty cigarette butt and smoking it?" he laughed. "Yeah, we had some great times around here, especially in the younger years. We mainly went to Harvey's Beach when we were little kids because the water is always pretty calm and it was good for learning to swim. Dad and I used to spend hours kicking a ball around on the sand too. When I got a bit older my friends and I would drive out to this beach instead because there was a little more wave action and it wasn't so overrun with people."

"Away from the prying eyes of parents," Lorelai added knowingly, her eyebrow arched.

Luke chuckled, nodding his head. "Something like that. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't cracked a carton of beer or two here back in the day."

Lorelai smiled conspiratorially.

After a moment's pause, Luke added, "First time I've brought a girl here."

"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?"

"Pretty rubbish," he teased. "She forced me to listen to country music on the drive in so I'm definitely having second thoughts."

"Hey!" Lorelai objected indignantly, skimming her hand over the top of the tide pool and flicking a light spray of water in his direction. "It's not my fault your radio's older than I am."

"Oh you wanna play that game?" Luke challenged, bending down as if to splash her with water, but not actually intending to do so.

Lorelai took off in a flash, leaping her way from rock to rock as she worked to put some distance between them.

"Chicken!" He called with a laugh, his smile wide.

She grinned back impishly, slowing her pace when she realized he wasn't in hot pursuit.

Luke watched as the tide pool in front of her captured her attention and she bent to examine its contents, her sandals dangling loosely from one hand. Framed by the backdrop of the ocean, the light of the moon struck her hair just so and Luke found himself wishing he could burn that image of her into his brain forever. She was exquisite – barefoot and carefree and so incredibly breathtaking that he thought his heart might pound right out of his chest.

For him, it was more than just physical attraction. He was in awe of her, pure and simple. The way she embraced every moment with almost childlike gusto; the way her smile took over her entire face; the way the hue of her eyes changed depending on her mood; the way she threw her head back when she laughed, her chocolate curls bouncing; the way she tackled challenges with fierce determination; the way she lit up everyone and everything around her.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice her walking further out on the rocks, inching ever-closer to the water's edge. When he finally registered her altered position, she was standing on the edge of a large stretch of rock, her arms widespread and her head thrown backwards as she looked up at the night sky. The waves beat against the rock incessantly, saltwater spraying her lightly and swirling around her shins.

While he knew she could swim and the water wasn't particularly rough, his first instinct was to pull her back to safer ground and envelop her in his arms. Stepping from rock to rock, he moved closer to her and once within earshot, called softly, "Come away from the water. All it's going to take is one big wave and you'll be in the drink."

Lorelai simply giggled, breathing in deeply and savoring the smell of the salt air. He finally reached her, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist from behind as if to steady her. She smiled blissfully and sunk into his embrace, casting her gaze out over the endless stretch of water.

"If we just kept going…stepped off the edge of Connecticut and went straight ahead into the sea of blue, what do you think we'd hit?" Lorelai asked.

"An iceberg, probably," Luke deadpanned in his usual dry tone.

"Luke!" Lorelai scolded, laughter evident in her tone.

"I don't know. Maybe Portugal or Spain? France if you shifted slightly further north I guess."

That answer seemed to satisfy her and she sighed contentedly, her hands coming to rest atop his on her stomach. "I think I could deal with a stop-off in Bordeaux to pick up a nice bottle of red. Or sunning myself on some glamourous beach on the French Riviera."

Luke chuckled appreciatively and he pressed a soft kiss to her neck.

"That's going to be Rory and I one day," she vowed with conviction and Luke immediately felt the fear ensnare his gut in a vice grip. He'd already had one girlfriend abandon him with adventure in her sights and the thought of losing Lorelai to the lure of the big wide world made him sick to his stomach.

"You'd leave?" he asked, doing his best to keep the dread from inching into his voice.

"Sure, I'd love to travel some more. Not the way I did with my parents, but my way. Strap on a backpack and go exploring."

"You'd come back though, right?" he ventured, and unlike his relationship with Rachel, he found himself willing to follow her to the ends of the Earth if that was truly what she wanted.

"Of course I'd come back!" she exclaimed, as if it went without saying. "Stars Hollow is home. Besides, I highly doubt those Italians have got anything on your coffee my friend. There's only so long I can go without it."

"Good to know," he laughed, relieved.

"Rory and I have made a pact to go backpacking once she's graduated high school. Probably just for a summer. You could come with us you know," she added enticingly. "We'd be like the three stooges – Larry, Curly and Moe."

While he brushed the idea aside with a blasé comment, the strange revelation for Luke was that the idea wasn't entirely without merit. The thought of experiencing the world through her eyes and with both Gilmore girls at his side surprisingly had its appeal.

"I'll go anywhere you want me to go," he whispered, pressing a series of kisses to her temple and across her hairline and prompting Lorelai to turn in his arms so they faced one another.

"I know it's a long way off but I really want to make it happen," Lorelai replied, her eyes tinged with determination as the electricity arced between them.

Tightening his hold around her he murmured, "You can do anything you set your mind to Lorelai. You know that better than anyone."

She blushed slightly, ducking her head with a self-deprecating smile. Placing one finger beneath her chin, he lifted her face gently and whispered, "I have complete faith in you," before leaning forward to brush his lips against hers.

She fell into the kiss, parting her lips and allowing her tongue to stroke his gently. It was only when an incoming wave crashed against the rocks and drenched them from head to toe with the resulting spray that they broke apart, Lorelai squealing in shock before breaking into a round of giggles.

A deep rumble of laughter bubbled up inside Luke and it was all he could do to bury his hand in her saturated curls and kiss her senseless once again, their soaked clothes clinging to their bodies.

-o-

The ride home had flown by in a blur, the easy banter undampened by the sorry state of their soggy clothing. With no towels to dry off with, they had mopped up what excess water they could with a spare flannel Luke had in the truck. It was now draped around Lorelai's shoulders, her hair having drenched it enough to make it just as wet as the rest of her attire.

In direct contrast to Lorelai's original plans, they had driven past the diner, Luke intent on getting her home as soon as possible so she could change into dry clothing.

When they arrived in her front yard, Lorelai happily accepted Luke's proffered hand as she slipped from the bench seat, the worn leather squeaking against her damp skin. Entwining her fingers with his, she led him up the porch steps unhurriedly, their adjoined hands tucked to the small of her back. Refraining from pausing in the doorway to say goodnight, Lorelai simply turned the door handle, wordlessly leading him inside and prompting Luke's heart to race.

Rather than focusing his energies on contemplating her intentions for the evening, Luke directed his attention to more familiar territory, rehashing his well-rehearsed safety lecture.

Sighing pointedly, he muttered, "Seriously? You didn't lock the door? How many times do I have to tell you it isn't safe for you and Rory?"

"Babe, no need to get your knickers in a knot," Lorelai teased, her eyes dancing with mirth. "This is Stars Hollow, not a witness protection program."

"This isn't a joking matter Lorelai," he grumbled automatically.

She merely shrugged, ignoring his pointed grimace as she relieved herself of her purse on the hall table and led him toward the laundry.

He'd never ventured into this room of the house before, generally having stuck to the kitchen and lounge areas, or occasionally the bathroom when a leaking tap or drainage problem had commanded his attention. It was small and basic, with a washer in one corner, an untouched dryer resting on the floor beside it and some basic shelving and bench space lining one wall.

His eyes followed Lorelai as she reached into a basket of clean washing resting atop the bench, accepting the towel she offered him before he proceeded to pat dry the remaining moisture on his skin. After tousling his hair, he lowered the towel to his waist, catching sight of Lorelai peeling his water-logged flannel from her torso. Mesmerized, all conscious thought trailed from his mind until she turned toward the washing machine, the movement bringing him back to reality with a jolt.

He focused on running the towel over his arms, aware of her tossing the flannel into the washer, but determined not to stare intently at her. It was a lost cause, despite his efforts to keep his eyes downcast. All it took was an inadvertent tilt of his head to notice the enticing strip of creamy white skin that materialized below the hem of her shirt as she stood on her tip-toes and reached for the washing powder on the top shelf.

Unable to stop himself, Luke reached out his hand, feeling her jerk suddenly at the unexpected contact on her lower back before she relaxed into his touch. He trailed the pads of his fingers along her skin lightly, noticing her breath hitch in her throat. After a moment's pause, she turned around slowly, offering him a warm smile before reaching to cup his face. He quickly closed the distance between them, his fingers drawing soft circles on her back as they kissed tenderly.

The minutes ticked by as they continued kissing softly and taking their fill of one another. Luke's hands ventured beneath her damp shirt, stroking her smooth stomach and setting a fire raging deep within them both.

Finally, Lorelai took a step back, fixing him with an intense stare before slowly lifting both arms above her head in wordless invitation.

Luke stood rooted to the spot, his eyes never leaving hers as he searched their depths for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, he silently edged both hands back beneath her blouse, using his thumbs to glide the soft satin up over her stomach and breasts before finally pulling it over her head. Luke's eyes connected with her blue orbs the moment her sodden curls sprung free. His hands coming to rest on her waist, he lowered his lashes and greedily drank in the sight of her pale skin. He wasn't sure whether the shiver that ran down her spine was a result of the evening air caressing her still-damp body or a by-product of the intensity of his gaze.

Luke watched as she bit her lip nervously, her eyes dropping to the floor as she anxiously awaited his assessment.

Swallowing hard, Luke edged his hand higher up her side, murmuring reverently, "Beautiful. So damn beautiful." The sincerity in his tone prompted her to lift her head, her expression questioning as if she hadn't expected such a positive appraisal.

Detecting her self-doubt, he squeezed her side gently and whispered, "You look like Christmas morning," his lips tugging up at the edges.

She smiled then; a brilliant, dazzling smile that had him vowing to bring it her face once again — everyday, if he had any say in it.

His right hand still resting on her side, Luke drew his left to her chest, allowing his knuckles to brush across her collarbone and over the smooth skin above her bra. She welcomed his touch, standing uncharacteristically still as she awaited his next move.

"Freckles," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he leant forward to press his mouth to the light dusting of specks.

Her hands immediately fell to his hair, drawing him closer as he laved at her skin gently.

"Luke," she whispered, her head falling backwards and granting him greater access.

He accepted the invitation eagerly, trailing kisses from her chest to her neck and along her jawline.

Desperate to taste him again, Lorelai drew his mouth to hers, parting his lips with her tongue insistently and kissing him hard and deep. Their movements fast became frenzied, Luke's hands moving to massage her breasts through the fabric of her bra and Lorelai pulling his lower body flush with hers.

Both completely caught up in the moment, they slammed up against the washing machine, their hands everywhere and their lips swollen.

"Up, up," Lorelai panted, reaching one hand behind her to feel for the top of the machine.

Luke eagerly obliged, lifting her thigh to his hip as much as her knee-length skirt would allow and placing his other hand on her waist to hoist her onto the lid. They broke apart momentarily, hastily drawing in much-needed oxygen before falling prey to one another again.

It wasn't until Luke felt Lorelai frantically trying to tug her skirt higher so he could stand comfortably between her legs that reality arrived to smack him in the face. Detaching his lips from hers, he reared back forcefully, trying to put enough distance between them to somehow stop himself from getting sucked into her oh-so-alluring web.

"Luke?" she asked, her chest heaving.

"Not here," he managed to choke out, his hand gesturing to their surroundings.

Her foggy brain was failing to compute and her brow furrowed in confusion as she desperately tried to regain her breath.

"Wha…?"

"Not here," he repeated vehemently, still panting. "Laundry."

Lorelai let out a frustrated whimper, her mind still muddled as she worked to process his words. Finally, they began to sink in as some semblance of cognitive thought returned.

"Upstairs," she breathed, reaching her palms out behind her to support her weight on the machine as she contemplated how best to slip to the floor.

"Rory," he reminded her, determined to do the right thing with what little self-control remained.

"Sookie's. All night."

"Your rules…" he trailed off, his restraint beginning to waver.

"To hell with the rules," she stated boldly. "I want you in my bed, now."

Regarding her carefully for a moment, Luke saw the fierce determination in her eyes and relinquished his scant resolve. Sensing his surrender, she extended her hand toward him, silently asking him to help her down from the washer.

Once her feet were planted firmly on the floor, she gave him a reassuring kiss before taking his hand in hers and leading him up the stairs.

Pausing at the bedroom door, she turned to face him, her cheeks flushing as she whispered, "Don't look."

"Huh?" he asked, confused.

"My room. It's messy," she confessed, covering his eyes with her hands momentarily to illustrate her point. "I wasn't exactly expecting us to end up at my place."

"You think I care about a little mess?" he asked incredulously, a rumble of laughter rising from deep within his stomach.

"Give me a minute to clean up?" she asked, tugging her lower lip between her teeth.

"No," he whispered, his tone soft but assertive as he claimed her lip as his own. "Believe me, your room is going to be the last thing I'm looking at."

Nodding, albeit a little embarrassedly, Lorelai pushed back against the door, her eyes locked on his as she pulled on his hand and walked backwards into the room. They came to a stop in the middle of the wooden floor, the familiar hum of energy surrounding them as they absorbed the reality of what was about to transpire.

"Lorelai?" Luke whispered, his eyes asking the unspoken question.

"I want this," she affirmed quietly, reaching out a hand to stroke the hair above his ear affectionately. "Let's get out of these wet clothes Burger Boy."

Not needing to be told twice, Luke immediately reached for the buttons on his shirt to catch up to her, but stilled his movements when Lorelai made to take over the task. Tugging the shirt from the waistband of his pants, she slid the buttons free and drew the cotton apart to find a white undershirt plastered to his torso.

Groaning in frustration, she muttered, "You wear too many layers." She pulled the tee upwards and slipped her hands underneath, anxious to feel his heated skin against hers. Running her fingertips over the hard planes of his stomach, she moaned appreciatively, affixing her mouth to the hollow of his throat and sucking gently.

"Jesus Lorelai," Luke choked out, his hands running over her back and pulling her to him.

Drawing back before she left a mark, Lorelai grinned impishly and moved to pull the tee over Luke's head. She wasn't prepared for the sight that awaited her, his muscular frame prompting her to gasp in shock.

Eyeing her skeptically, he muttered dryly, "I hope that was an 'I'm pleasantly surprised' gasp rather than the 'oh my God, I'm dating the Hunchback of Notre Dame and need to escape out the window while he's not looking' kind."

Lorelai chuckled breathily, running her fingers over his well-defined abs as she clarified, "Actually, it's the 'alert Websters because I've found the definition of a washboard stomach for their next pictorial edition' variety. God Luke, I knew you were fit but you kind of failed to mention the whole built-like-a-Greek-God thing."

Luke snorted self-deprecatingly but looked pleased nonetheless.

"You know, you're awful pretty Lucas," Lorelai whispered, running her hands through the fine hair on his chest.

"Not Lucas," he muttered petulantly, opposed to the use of his full name. "And not pretty."

"My mistake. I meant to say you're awful pretty _Duke_."

"Don't start that again," he groaned, nipping at her ear softly. "And don't even talk to me about pretty. You're killing me here Gilmore."

"Oh, yeah?" she flirted in typical Lorelai style, batting her eyelids furiously. "You think I'm pretty Duke?"

"I think you're drop dead gorgeous," he growled, his desire reflected in the deep timbre of his voice. "And the name's Luke. You'd do well to remember that when you're screaming it later."

Lorelai's jaw dropped in shock at his words before the peals of delighted laughter burst from her mouth, the mischievous glint in his eye informing her he was teasing.

"Naughty, naughty boy," she chastised, swatting his chest playfully. "My, my, someone's feeling confident today."

"Yeah well, who could blame me for being smug when I've snagged the most beautiful girl in town?" he countered with a cheeky smile, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth and sucking it greedily before moving to her neck.

"Flattery will get you everywhere Danes," she breathed, welcoming his renewed assault.

Walking her backwards toward the bed, Luke waited for the back of Lorelai's knees to hit the mattress before gently easing her down onto the covers. Hovering above her, his eyes raked over her body once more before he lowered his head to her breasts, kissing the tops of the milky white mounds that spilled from her pink satin bra.

Reaching his hand beneath her, he undid the clasp in one easy movement, prompting Lorelai to raise an eyebrow in surprise and a hint of admiration. Luke simply shrugged, a subtle smile gracing his features as he pulled the straps down her arms and tossed the garment carelessly across the room.

Suddenly overcome with need, he buried his head in the valley between her breasts, breathing in deeply as he cupped each mound.

"So sweet," he murmured, testing their weight in each hand and pressing soft kisses to her chest. Her skin felt somewhat clammy as a result of their earlier drenching and he tasted the tang of salt as he allowed his tongue to trail across her heated flesh.

Lorelai jerked when his teeth came into contact with her left nipple, arching her back wantonly as she begged him to soothe it with his tongue. He happily obliged, teasing both breasts with soft licks before sucking ardently and prompting her to whimper and moan in pleasure.

Working his way down her stomach, Luke paused to explore her navel with his questing tongue, finally stopping when he reached the waistband of her skirt. Intent on seeking her permission, he waited patiently for Lorelai to lift her head from the mattress. It didn't take long, her heavy-lidded eyes settling on him as she breathed, "For God's sake, don't stop."

Buoyed by her enthusiasm, Luke smiled and whispered, "Lift up," as he snaked his hands beneath her and located her skirt zipper. Unable to resist, he smoothed his hands over her ass, squeezing tightly before unzipping her skirt and slowly pulling it down her long legs.

Enraptured by the sight of her lying almost completely naked beneath him, he murmured, "This is really happening right? 'Cause I'm gonna lose it if I wake up to find this was just a dream."

"Trust me, it's real," she purred, stroking the soft hair spattering his chest. "It did _not_ feel this good in my dreams. And just for the record, they were _really_ good dreams."

Luke chuckled, reveling in the sensation of running his hands up and down her lithe legs. Slowing down his ministrations, he lowered his head, cupping her calves gently before removing her sandals and pressing a soft kiss to the arch of each foot. He gradually worked his way up to her ankles and beyond, leisurely kissing every inch of skin. By the time his breath tickled her knees, Lorelai had had enough. Tugging on his shoulders, she urged him to abandon his post and meet her lips, frustration setting in when he refused to budge.

"Come here," she begged, her fingers reaching down to massage the hard muscles in his back.

"Nuh-uh," he refuted, continuing with his painstaking work. "Not done yet."

"Want to touch you," she whined, gasping as his gifted tongue worked its way up the inside of her thigh.

"Soon," he promised.

Reaching the junction of her thighs, Luke paused to breathe in the scent of her, inhaling deeply as he pressed his nose to her panties.

"Lorelai," he whispered reverently, immediately feeling his already-tight jeans constrict even further. Drawing in another deep breath, he lifted his head to meet her eyes, once again seeking the green light to proceed.

At her pointed whimper, he lowered his head once again, this time allowing his tongue to make contact with the outside of her panties.

"Oh God, I can taste you," he breathed shakily, overcome with desire.

"Off, off," she ground out, urging him to rid them of the physical barrier.

Shaking his head in defiance, he continued to lap at her, sucking her through the thin black satin. "You're so wet Lorelai."

She whimpered, bucking her hips as she pleaded with him to take more.

He growled appreciatively, thrusting his hips against the mattress to achieve some much-needed friction.

"Need you," she whispered desperately.

Giving in to her pleas, Luke jerked her panties aside, running his index finger along her folds before slipping it inside of her waiting warmth. She let out a pleasure-filled moan, rocking her hips slightly to urge him on. He caressed her with lazy, long strokes, watching as she writhed with pleasure, her eyes closed as she begged for more. He gradually increased his pace, slipping another finger inside her and stroking furiously. Noticing the way she fisted her hands in the bed cover and emitted a series of high pitched mews from the back of her throat, Luke realised she was fast approaching her peak. He deliberately halted his assault, desperate to hear her beg for her release.

"Luke," she cried forlornly. "Don't stop. Please, I need you now."

Emboldened by her pleas, Luke resumed his movements, this time touching his tongue to her clit and sucking hard to drive her over the edge. As the waves of pleasure washed over her, he continued his ministrations in an attempt to prolong the sensation, delighting in the sight of her trembling body and her cries of satisfaction.

She collapsed against the bed weakly, her limbs splayed wide and her chest heaving as she came down from her high.

Crawling up the length of her, Luke bracketed his forearms on either side of her head and watched as she grappled to regain her breath, her eyes dazed and unfocused. He drank in the picture of her beneath him, breathless and content, her still-wet curls framing the porcelain skin of her face and soaking the cotton of the pillow case.

Needing to somehow be closer to her; to convey his sense of ecstasy at being the one to affect her so, Luke leaned down and pressed adoring kisses to Lorelai's brow, forehead and hairline. The action seemed to draw her from her reverie and she blinked several times before looking him in the eye and smiling a magnificent smile.

When she didn't say anything, Luke leaned down beside her ear and whispered, "Don't tell me I've finally worked out the secret to making Lorelai Gilmore speechless."

Her resulting laughter was infectious, prompting a chuckle to burst forth from Luke's throat as he buried his head in the crook of her neck.

"Apparently I've never had a good enough reason to be quiet before," she laughed breathlessly.

"Ah well, you haven't ruined your reputation completely; you were pretty loud for a while there," he smirked, drawing his head up once again to take in her delicate features.

She brought her hand up to stroke his hair and run over his cheek, marveling at the softness of it sans stubble.

"That was incredible," she whispered.

"Happy to be of service," he replied easily, leaning down to peck her lips. "But you know that was just the warm-up performance. I'm not anywhere near done with you yet."

Lorelai smiled but shook her head. "No. My turn now."

Trailing her hand from his cheek, down past his chest and over his stomach, Lorelai's fingertips came to rest on his belt buckle as she whispered, "You know you're looking awfully overdressed there Duke. Why don't we see if there's anything we can do to remedy that."

Tugging his belt free, she tossed it carelessly to the floor before releasing the top button of his jeans and sliding her hand lower. She could feel him straining against the denim and moved to gently unzip his fly. Hearing his breath hitch, Lorelai seized the opportunity to push one hand up against his chest and flip them over, her damp curls cascading over her face and shoulders as she straddled his thighs.

Lowering her head, she rained open-mouth kisses over his chest and stomach, occasionally using her teeth to nip and nibble at his heated flesh.

Slipping her hand inside his underwear, her fingers curled around his shaft, prompting Luke to moan as she released him from the tight confines. She stroked him lightly and felt him begin to fill further at the sensation. Giving him a gentle squeeze, she ran one finger over his boxer briefs and jeans and murmured, "These have to go."

Threading her fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, she attempted to work the fabric down over his legs, the water-logged denim clinging to his skin and making her task near impossible.

"Luke, help," she pouted, frustration etched in her features. "Stupid denim."

He lifted his body from the mattress as best he could and tried unsuccessfully to complete the task at hand.

"Here, let me up," he encouraged, caressing her hip as he shifted her to the side and rose from the bed.

Standing up, he toed off his shoes and was able to work the jeans down his legs more easily, pulling his boxer briefs with them. In his haste, he lost his footing and stumbled sideways as he desperately tried to rid himself of the damp clothing. Steadying himself against the end of the bed, he kicked the tangle of material from around his ankles and stood tall once again, an abashed smile gracing his lips.

Lowering himself to the mattress, he crawled toward her, Lorelai's heart beating wildly as he licked his lips in anticipation. Hovering above her on all fours, he glanced pointedly at the one remaining scrap of satin adorning her body and whispered, "Now look who's overdressed."

Taking his time, he trailed his fingertips lightly over her thighs before hooking his thumbs under the elastic of her panties and slowly sliding them downwards. Once she was stripped bare he paused to take in every inch of her, her ivory skin illuminated by the slivers of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Instinctively, she reached to shield her chest with one arm, her insecurities temporarily getting the better of her as his intense gaze roamed over her svelte frame.

Luke paused at the movement, his eyes probing hers as he cocked his head questioningly. When she didn't respond, he allowed his hand to rest lightly against hers comfortingly, still holding her gaze as they communicated silently.

 _Is this okay? Do you want to stop?_

 _This is perfect. I'm just nervous. This is huge._

 _We don't have to do this if you don't want to._

 _I want this Luke. I want you._

Entwining his fingers with hers, Luke slowly drew her hand away from her chest, his eyes locked on hers the entire time. Still holding tightly to her hand, he lowered his gaze, his breath sticking in his chest.

"My Lorelai," he finally breathed, his voice hushed. "My beautiful Lorelai." And she thought she might melt into sweet oblivion then and there from the wonder reflected in his eyes.

Welcoming his kiss, Lorelai's free hand sought his back, her nails raking over the taut muscles as she held him to her. His lips burnt a trail across her jaw and neck, eventually finding purchase on a sweet spot beneath her ear.

She moaned appreciatively and once again reached down to stroke him, but he used his free hand to halt her movements.

"Too much," he choked out, continuing to feather gentle kisses across her soft skin. "I…I won't make it," he confessed a little sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with pink.

When her eyes met his he mumbled awkwardly, "Sorry, it's er…been a while. And you're not exactly making it easy looking like that."

Blinking back at him, she nodded in understanding and ran her hand soothingly across his back before whispering, "Come here."

He didn't need to be told twice, molding his body to hers and breathing in the intoxicating scent of her shampoo; coconut and something else he couldn't quite place.

"Now, Luke."

He drew back slightly, pressing a kiss to her lips as he murmured, "Jeans."

"What?"

"Jeans," he repeated, reluctantly pulling away and twisting his head to the side as he squinted into the dark room. "Protection. In my wallet."

"I've got it covered," she whispered. "The pill. And otherwise I'm good, you know…uh…healthy."

He nodded and smiled, murmuring, "Me too."

"Where were we?" she purred seductively, raising her head slightly to capture his lips with hers. He responded eagerly, their tongues duelling as he shifted his hips to align them with hers.

Rubbing his shaft along her slick folds, Luke let out a guttural groan. Feeling her fingers tighten on his biceps, he waited until Lorelai's eyes locked with his, seeking confirmation.

Her blue orbs said it all; desire colouring them a shade darker than usual as he poised at her entrance.

"Together," he uttered, his voice husky and emotive. Interlacing their free hands, he raised both of her arms above her head and pushed into her gently, hissing through gritted teeth as her warmth enveloped him.

He sank into her slowly, their eyes locked on one another as she took him in inch by inch. When he was almost completely sheathed in her, they paused to allow her body to accommodate him, their breath mingling and coming in short puffs.

At Lorelai's almost imperceptible nod, he began to move inside her; slowly at first as he worshipped her body and whispered words of adoration. She settled her feet on the back of his calves, drawing him closer and matching him stroke for stroke. He grunted as her nails pierced the skin of his back, the pain combining with pleasure to leave him desperate for more.

"Faster," she whispered, cupping his ass and pressing him closer. He adjusted their angle, driving into her more deeply but still maintaining that maddeningly slow pace that had her practically begging for release.

"Slow," he countered, drawing back as far as he could before slowly sliding back into her. He allowed his hips to grind against her, stimulating her clit with every thrust.

Luke watched as she threw her head back on the pillow and he seized the opportunity to feast on her neck, peppering it with kisses and sucking ardently.

She writhed and whimpered beneath him, meeting each roll of his hips as they fell into a natural rhythm of give and take. Wrapping her legs around his hips tightly, she moved her feet to his ass and pressed down, desperate to feel every inch of him inside her.

Opening her eyes, she felt her arousal surge as she took in the sight of him sliding in and out of her steadily, his cock slick with her juices.

"Oh God, Luke," she moaned, clawing at his shoulders. "Look at us," she panted, overcome by the thought of him inside her. "We're beautiful."

She felt his restraint begin to waver as his gaze settled on them, and when she clenched her walls tightly around him, he quickened his pace, pounding into her with every ounce of energy he could muster.

His hand moved to her clit, desperate to send her spiraling over the edge again before he exploded inside her. Beads of sweat formed on his brow and it was all he could do to avoid giving in to the bliss that threatened to overtake him.

He felt her begin to spasm around him and she cried out his name as she broke.

"Guh, uh," he grunted between gritted teeth as he gave in and allowed himself to follow her over the edge, filling her with hot spurts. He gave a few last determined thrusts before collapsing against her, spent.

They lay together, panting heavily as they both grappled for breath. As their breathing began to even out, Luke made to pull away from her, cognizant of the fact he was crushing her with his weight.

"Not yet," Lorelai whispered, savoring the feeling of having their bodies connected in the most intimate way.

She tightened her grasp on him, her arms and legs locked in a vice grip as she clutched him to her.

"Crushing you," he murmured.

"Don't care."

He melted into her, dropping his forehead against hers before showering her hair and face with soft kisses.

"That was… _wow_ ," she breathed, barely able to string together a full sentence. "Like, seriously wow. Intense."

"Wow," he agreed, a chuckle reverberating through his body.

"Where on Earth did you learn to do that so damn well?" At his raised eyebrow, she added, "On second thought, don't answer that."

He laughed again, pressing a kiss to her forehead and sighing contentedly.

She let out a whimper of disappointment when he slipped from her warmth, Luke insisting on rolling off her so she could breathe properly. As soon as his back hit the mattress, he pulled her to him, tucking her head into the crook of his arm and cradling her close.

"You know, I always thought it would be good between us, but I never thought it could be _that_ good," he confessed.

"Right back atcha tiger," Lorelai agreed, rubbing lazy circles on his chest. "If that's what our first time together is like, imagine how good we'll be in a year."

Luke chuckled, squeezing her side affectionately. It wasn't often that she dared put voice to them being together over the long term and he basked in the knowledge that she was gradually becoming more comfortable with the concept.

"You'll stay, right?" she whispered after a few minutes of silence, loathe to let him go.

"Of course," he affirmed softly, pressing a gentle kiss into her hair. "I'll stay for as long as you want me here."

And that's how they fell asleep, wrapped tightly in one another's embrace and dreaming of what was to come.

-o-

Lorelai lay on her back, staring wide-eyed at the bedroom ceiling as she processed the events that had transpired earlier in the evening. The digits on the alarm clock illuminated the dark room, informing her it was after 2am. She knew she should try to sleep, but it was no use when her mind was whirring at a mile a minute. Experience had taught her counting sheep was futile and she was better off addressing her thoughts than spending hours tossing and turning.

Chancing a glance beside her, she took in Luke's muscular frame, his deep, even breathing indicating he was fast asleep. She felt the solid weight of his leg entangled with hers, one of his arms resting protectively over her waist.

It felt surreal having him lying beside her; in the bed she normally frequented alone, save for the occasional night when Rory had a nightmare or was feeling unwell. Surreal, but not unwelcome.

She swallowed, her breathing quickening as she realized they'd taken their bond to a whole new level tonight. Step by step, they were inextricably linking their lives closer together. That in itself didn't set her pulse racing with anxiety, but more terrifying was the thought that they were simultaneously destroying any possibility of making it out unscathed should the relationship go pear shaped. The more of herself she relinquished to him, the harder it would be to pick up the pieces if she screwed things up. The familiar sense of apprehension urged her to bail, but when she focused on the warm weight of his hand against her abdomen and the rhythmic sounds of his breathing, she immediately stilled, her body flooded with calm.

She knew it was selfish to wake him, which is why she forced herself to draw her eyes away and instead focus on the patches of peeling paint on the ceiling, trying to pick shapes from the imperfections. If she squinted, one kind of resembled the dancing pork chop sign from the diner and she grinned stupidly at the thought.

Biting on her lower lip, she tugged the covers up to her neck as if to stop her hands from reaching over and giving him a gentle shake. Once again, she worked to occupy her attention, but continually found herself drawn to the sleeping form beside her.

Propping herself up on one elbow, she edged her face a little closer to his, as if examining him to determine whether he was, in fact, fast asleep. His dark eyelashes fanned across his cheeks and he gave a little grunt, his breath hitching momentarily before his chest picked up its steady rhythm again.

Rise, fall, rise, fall.

 _Must not wake him_ , she chastised herself, drawing away and resuming her position on her back. _No matter how much you need to talk this over with your best friend, you must not wake him_.

Thirty seconds later she found herself staring at him again and rationalizing that it wasn't like he had an early delivery in the morning…

"Psst Luke."

Nothing.

"Duuuuuuke, you awake?"

When he didn't respond, she let out a sigh, her body humming with energy as her eyes darted around the room in search of something to occupy her. After a minute of silence, she edged onto her side, resting her palm against his chest and hovering barely an inch above his face as she took in his sleeping form and debated her next move.

"Luke, you awake?" she pressed again.

"I am now," he groaned, his eyes popping open and startling her so much that she jumped.

Recovering quickly, a broad smile overtook her face as she took in his sleepy state, his cheeks soft and rumpled.

"Hi," Lorelai whispered, her blue eyes locking with his.

"S'matter?" Luke mumbled, tightening his hold on her waist and fighting hard to stay awake.

"I need you to be Friend Luke for a minute."

"Wha…?" He asked groggily.

"I need you to be Friend Luke."

"I am your friend Luke," he answered tiredly, his brow furrowing in confusion. He had a hard enough time keeping up with her when he was fully conscious, let alone when he was half asleep.

"No, you're Boyfriend Luke. I need you to be Friend Luke for a minute."

"You realize we're the same person right?" he mumbled, allowing his eyelids to flutter shut for a moment.

When she didn't respond, he opened his eyes to find her staring at him hopefully, her face still just inches away.

"Friend Luke," he sighed, resigned. "Hit me with it."

"There's a boy in my bed," she breathed instantly.

"Huh?"

"A boy. In my bed," she repeated, her eyes wide.

Disoriented, Luke squinted toward her side of the bed for a second as if expecting to see a child materialize. It took a moment for him to realize she was talking about him.

"Oh, me."

"No, you're Friend Luke," she hissed exasperatedly. "Will you stay in character please? Pretend we're at the diner or something. Let's start again. There's a boy in my bed."

"Man," he corrected, his voice gravelly.

"What?"

"There's a _man_ in your bed."

"Ugh, now is not the time for petty distinctions," she huffed.

"Says the woman who insists on there being two separate versions of me," he mumbled dryly, rolling his eyes. At her glare, he sighed, "Okay, there's a boy in your bed. Go on."

"What do you think about that?" she asked hesitantly, her teeth once again drawing on her bottom lip.

"As Friend Luke? I want to kick his ass," he admitted.

"Because you think him being here was a bad idea?" she queried nervously.

"No, because I hate the idea of anyone but me being in your bed."

"Luke!" she rebuked, laughter bubbling from her throat as she swatted at his chest.

"What? You asked me to be Friend Luke. That's what would be going through Friend Luke's mind."

"Friend Luke would never have said that," she argued.

" _You_ never would have raised this topic with Friend Luke."

Lorelai eyed him skeptically, but finally conceded his point. It had been rare for her to mention a boyfriend to Luke in the past and when she did, any extracurricular activities were strictly off limits. Not that there were many of those anyway, and certainly not at the Crap Shack.

As she pondered that thought, Luke shifted her so her body now rested fully atop his, her head still raised. His arms snaked lightly around her bare ribcage and his voice softened as he said, "Why don't you go ahead and tell me what this is really about? Not Friend Luke, not Boyfriend Luke, just Luke."

Lorelai blinked, unsure of where to start.

"I just…I mean we…and then I… _twice_ and…you're in my bed," she stammered.

Luke refrained from raising his eyebrow at her nonsensical babble, sensing that it was important for her to get this out.

"Do you want me to go?" he whispered in a low tone.

"No!" she refuted quickly, tightening her hold on him. And it struck her that him leaving was the thing she feared the most.

"I'm just…scared," she confessed, suddenly lacking her trademark confidence.

"Of me?" Luke asked worriedly.

"No, of us. Of this. Of what happens if it all falls to pieces and we're in too deep. There's no going back now."

"We're not going to fall to pieces Lorelai," he soothed, and the conviction in his voice somehow made her believe him. "I've waited too long for this to let it fall apart."

The gentle circles he drew on the bare skin of her back lulled her into a peaceful state and she found herself relaxing as she buried her head in his chest.

"If this is moving too fast for you, we can slow it down a little," he offered, his voice still calm and soothing.

Her eyes fluttered closed against his chest momentarily as she savored his heady, masculine scent.

"No, I want this," she whispered. And it was the truth. "I'm just not very good at it."

Luke couldn't help the chuckle that fell from his lips, lightening the mood as he said, "On the contrary, I thought you were _very_ good at it."

Lorelai giggled, pressing a kiss to the light dusting of hair across his chest. "We were pretty good weren't we?"

"Incredible."

"You always make everything better," she whispered, lifting her head slightly to make eye contact with him. "How you manage to talk me down off the cliff every time I freak out is beyond me."

He gave her a gentle squeeze, leaning down to press a soft kiss into her hair.

"We're good together," he answered simply.

"Yeah, we are," she agreed.

"You've got to promise to keep talking to me Lorelai," he murmured.

"I thought you hated my incessant talking," she said with a smirk.

"I don't mean your damn movie references or constant gabble," he scowled. "Believe me, I can do without them. I mean the important stuff. I don't want you getting inside your own head and freaking out. Just come to me and I promise we'll work it out. We're in this together."

"Okay," she breathed. "Hey Luke?" she added, her blue eyes locking on his as her fingers tangled in his hair lightly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"Welcome," he murmured, stroking his hands along her back.

"You know, it's kinda weird but I like having a boy in my bed," she mused.

"Me too."

"Uh oh, that's the kind of creepy shit you really should have mentioned a little earlier."

"Stop," he warned, shooting her a stern glare.

Taking a moment to rest her head against his chest once again, she finally grumbled, "My pillow's all wet."

He laughed, running his fingers through her wild curls which still felt slightly damp from the beach and were cool against his warm skin.

"That's what you get for falling into bed without drying off properly."

"Stupid boys with their stupid short hair," she muttered enviously.

"I'll be your pillow," he offered good naturedly.

"Mmm, cushy and warm," she sighed contentedly, nuzzling into him. She trailed several light kisses across his chest, her palm moving to rub his stomach gently.

She was surprised to feel him twitch to life against her leg, prompting her to grin wickedly.

"Well, well, look who decided to wake up," she teased.

"Sorry," he muttered automatically, his cheeks flushing pink.

"No need to be sorry," she countered, shifting slightly higher up his body and bracketing her elbows on either side of his head. She hovered above him before dipping her head to kiss him, tugging on his lip playfully.

"You know we've got this awfully big bed just begging to be put to good use. Not to mention a child-free house and conveniently, we're both awake…"

"I wonder why that would be," he said pointedly, but failed miserably at his attempts at grumpiness.

When she grinned and began to trace the outline of his frown with her fingers, he allowed his hand to slip down to cup her bottom, asking, "Did you have something in particular in mind?"

"Maybe we could watch TV," she shrugged nonchalantly.

At her words, he slapped her ass lightly and in one swift movement, rolled over so she was pinned beneath him, prompting her to squeal delightedly.

Biting at her neck playfully and drawing back to soak up the sight of her naked body, he responded eagerly, "TV huh? Well lucky for you, I happen to be a big fan of the Discovery Channel…"

-o-

 **What did you think? *hides in the corner* Super keen to hear your thoughts as it's the first time I've delved into the land of adult content. Here's hoping you thought it was tasteful and not plain gross!**

 **P.S. A couple of readers gave the thumbs up to the 'M' content but asked that the broader storyline isn't forgotten moving forward. Rest assured, we'll still see plenty of the non-adult content, including the development of Rory and Luke's father-daughter type relationship. There'll just be a little bit of smut thrown in from time to time where I think the storyline calls for it (supposing you don't all come at me with pitchforks after this chapter because you hated it! Haha).**

 **Look forward to hearing your thoughts!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note:** Hello strangers! Long time, no post! So sorry about the delay. I have been getting ready for a trip OS so unfortunately have had limited time to spare.

The good news is, I worked all weekend to finish this chapter so you'd get an update before I depart next week. The bad news is I'm travelling until February, so I'm sorry to say I probably won't be able to work on the next chapter until I'm home on Aussie soil (laptops are HEAVY to lug around in the backpack!)

I'll be touching down in the US very briefly (first time ever!) on my way to and from South/Central America so it will be interesting to see if all the words I've been using and the culture I've been writing about in this fic are actually somewhat true to life haha. Hopefully they are! It's sometimes hard to know from all the way down under.

On a separate note, I had a reader ask me whether we're going to see April pop up in this fanfic. Rest assured, April does not and will never feature in this story. If I had my way, she wouldn't exist in the show, so she definitely won't be appearing in my fantasy LL universe! (Sorry to any April-lovers out there!)

-o-

 **Chapter 13**

There weren't many things Lorelai Gilmore counted on.

Twenty-seven years of life had proved irrefutably that good deeds in Hartford high society always came with strings attached and that self-sufficiency was the key to a harmonious existence.

More than anything, she had learned that low expectations limited disappointment.

No, she didn't count on child support payments, or obtaining the elusive 'whole package', or warm and fuzzy Kodak moments spent at the Gilmore mansion. For years, she'd focused doggedly on not counting on anyone or anything but herself and the magical restorative powers of a cup of coffee.

And, of course, Luke Danes.

Despite Lorelai's fierce independence, she'd allowed the flannel-clad diner man to come to her aid on more than one occasion in the time she'd known him, preventing the Crap Shack from collapsing in on top of her and Rory and keeping them in a steady supply of cheeseburgers, donuts and caffeine.

Luke always came through for her. So she really shouldn't have been surprised when he made good on his pledge to take Rory on an outing to Harvey's Beach before school resumed. After years of false promises from Christopher, a part of her had been conditioned to expect the trip to fall through.

Luke had coaxed them out of bed at 7am – an ungodly hour by Gilmore standards – with the promise of pancakes and bacon. Bleary-eyed and in serious caffeine withdrawal, Lorelai had stumbled into the diner, half-heartedly tugging on her daughter's sleeve as Rory yawned tiredly and dragged her feet along the linoleum.

It had taken them the better part of an hour to reach the coastline after finishing breakfast, the road trip made longer by Lorelai's insistence that they stop for Red Vines and Milk Duds.

She could feel the warmth of the September sun seeping into her skin as she lay stretched out on her beach towel, sighing contentedly at the sound of the waves lapping lightly at the shoreline. Blinking through her sunglasses, she shifted her head slightly to survey her daughter, a smile playing on her lips as she watched Rory methodically piling sand atop Luke's legs where he sat beside them. If he was perturbed by the younger Gilmore's actions, he didn't show it, his face neutral as he allowed her to continue with her task. Rory patted the sand lightly, smoothing it with her hands before dumping yet another handful on top of his knees, completely obscuring his lower body from view. Once she was satisfied his legs were adequately covered, she began to trace the outline of a fish tail in the sand at his feet, her tongue resting between her lips in concentration.

"What ya drawing there kid?" Lorelai inquired, lifting up to rest on her elbows.

Her eyes still focused firmly on her impromptu artwork as her index finger trailed through the sand, Rory explained easily, "It's a fish tail."

"Turning Luke into a fish huh?"

"Yeah. Or maybe a whale. Or a dolphin. I'm not sure yet."

"Looks awfully like a mermaid tail to me," Lorelai smirked, casting Luke a teasing look as she raised her sunglasses to rest atop her head.

Luke scowled, shooting Lorelai a stern glare. "Don't listen to her Rory. You just go ahead with the fish idea."

"But you'd make such a pretty Ariel," Lorelai pressed, delighting in the withering stare he sent her way. "A couple of strategically placed shells on your chest and you might just be the prettiest mermaid princess I ever saw."

"I'll alert Disney," he deadpanned.

Leaning back on her heels to assess her handiwork, Rory deliberated earnestly before slowly uttering, "You know, it does kind of look more like a mermaid tail Luke. Mom has a point."

His firm protest was drowned out by Lorelai's laughter and her satisfied, "Ha! Told you burger boy!"

"I'm serious. No mermaids," he warned sharply.

"Want me to go fetch some shells to decorate babe?" Lorelai asked her daughter sweetly, heedless of Luke's objections. "Princess Ariel's a big fan of purple, right?"

Rory nodded, her eyes taking on the same mischievous twinkle as her mother's and her lips curving up in a smile.

"What part of 'no' is it that you two don't understand?" Luke argued, shaking his head vehemently. "There's no way I'm sitting on this beach looking like a woman wearing a god damn coconut bra."

"Well actually babe, Ariel's more of a shell fan as opposed to coconuts but I appreciate the visual," Lorelai winked. At Rory's giggle, she added, "Ooh, Rory! I've got a good one! What does a mermaid wear to math class?"

Undeterred by Luke's pointed eye-roll, she continued with her pitiful punchline. "An algae-bra. Ha! Get it?"

"Oh boy," Luke groaned, dropping his forehead into his hands in defeat. "You're certifiable, you know that, right?"

Rory giggled appreciatively, her sparkling blue eyes reflecting the affection she held for her mother.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm here all week," Lorelai joked, rising to her feet and picking up Rory's bucket in readiness for shell hunting. Turning her attention to Luke, she pulled her sunglasses back down into position and said, "You sit tight mermaid man. Can't have you moving about and messing up my little artist's sculpture, okay?"

He growled disgruntledly, but remained in position as he watched her lithe form weaving amongst the sea of beach towels and umbrellas.

Lorelai scoured the beach for the most colorful shells she could find, returning a few minutes later to find Rory finishing off an outline of scales on Luke's mermaid tail.

Unwilling to disappoint the 10-year-old, he begrudgingly allowed both girls to adorn his makeshift tail with colorful treasures, grumbling words like, "ridiculous," "unbelievable" and "grown man" just loud enough for them to hear. The two Gilmores couldn't help but snicker as he continued to mutter under his breath.

When they finally completed the artwork, Lorelai and Rory stood up and surveyed their creation proudly.

"Why Ariel, I do believe Prince Eric would be lucky to have such a beautiful bride," Lorelai mocked mercilessly.

"Bite me," Luke barked, his eyes narrowed.

"You know, I think we're missing something Sweets," Lorelai remarked, turning her attention to her daughter. "Ariel has such long, luscious locks and I don't think Luke's cropped look is quite cutting it. Maybe we should do something to fix that."

Rory grinned cheekily, quickly turning her head from side to side in search of a suitable prop. Her gaze finally settled on a clump of dried seaweed a few meters away and she scampered off to collect it. When she returned, Luke's protests were already in full swing, and Lorelai struggled to contain her laughter when Rory dropped her bottom lip ever-so-slightly, prompting Luke to immediately capitulate. There was no doubt about it; she had him wrapped around her little finger.

Taking in the image of Luke draped in seaweed and glaring up mutinously from beneath his lashes, Lorelai couldn't help the tears of laughter that began to seep from the corners of her eyes.

"Oh God, I wish we'd brought a camera," she howled, both girls giggling conspiratorially.

"That's it; I'm done," he threatened, preparing to rise to his feet.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Rory urged between bursts of laughter. "One more minute. Please Luke!"

Weathering the humiliation for a moment more, he watched Lorelai drop to her knees and reach out a hand to stroke his makeshift hair.

"I don't know about you Rory but I'm of the opinion that Ariel here definitely deserves a Gilmore smooch for being such a good sport. What do you think?" she asked, tapping Luke's face lightly as if to hint for Rory to give him a peck on the cheek. Still giggling wildly, the little girl nodded her head and darted to his opposite side, mimicking her mother's move as she leaned in to shyly drop a kiss to his scruffy cheek. Before the girls had a chance to pull away, Luke snagged each of them around the waist and proceeded to tickle their bellies, prompting both Gilmores to squeal in surprise and delight.

Rory's squeals kicked up an octave and she continued to giggle uncontrollably as Luke swiped the seaweed from his head and lunged to his feet, shaking the dried mass in her direction and sending sand flying every which way. He let out a playful roar and took off after her as she pelted down toward the water to escape the dreaded seaweed, her little legs moving as fast as they could go.

When he hit the sea of icy blue water, Luke continued to run for a few meters before throwing the seaweed up into the air, abandoning it in favor of diving beneath the surface and washing the excess sand from his skin. When he resurfaced and wiped the water from his eyes, he turned to find Rory hovering uncertainly at the water's edge, her expression one of both happiness and hesitation.

Moving back toward her, he asked warmly, "Hey, you planning on joining me in here?"

She smiled tentatively, clearly wanting to go in but unsure about doing so. The finger that twisted in her hair betrayed her nervousness, prompting Luke to soften his tone and regard her carefully.

"Not sure about it, huh?"

She gave him a shy smile and murmured, "I uh…I'm not such a good swimmer."

Not wanting to heighten her anxiety, Luke simply nodded matter-of-factly and moved to crouch on the sand beside her. "Your mom says you've taken some lessons. Is that right?"

Lorelai had given him the heads up that Rory was capable of swimming but didn't feel particularly confident in the water.

She nodded again, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth worriedly.

"Okay, well no pressure from me. If you want to stay on the sand that's fine with me. I'm happy to sit with you. If you want to cool off we could have a splash together here in the shallows."

Rory didn't reply immediately, the young girl weighing up her options in her mind and watching as Luke lowered his hands into the inch-deep whitewash as it began to recede.

"I'm not sure if I can do it," she confessed, her face flushing with embarrassment.

Again, Luke simply nodded, taking a moment to mull over the right thing to say to set her at ease.

"You know, it's funny you say that. I used to say the same thing," he explained casually. "When I was a kid, I was afraid of the water."

"You were?" Rory asked disbelievingly, her eyes wide. "I didn't think you'd be afraid of anything."

Luke chuckled, warmed by her childlike innocence. "Sure, everyone's afraid of something kiddo."

"But how come you're not scared of it anymore?" she queried, clearly intrigued.

Luke shrugged. "My dad, I guess. He got me used to it. Taught me not to let the fear get to me."

"How?" she asked eagerly, desperately wanting to learn his secret to success.

"Ah, I'm not sure his method was the best choice," Luke laughed. "He threw me into the lake one day and told me the only way out was to swim to the bank."

At Rory's horrified expression, he chuckled again and said, "Don't get me wrong; he would have jumped in to help me if he needed to. He just knew that I was capable of doing it after months of lessons with him, so he gave me a little push in the right direction. When I made it to the bank and realized I'd done it all by myself, suddenly it didn't seem so scary anymore. It was just what I needed."

Rory still looked dubious so Luke added with a wry smile, "Don't worry, I wouldn't do that to you."

She smiled at his words, knowing he spoke the truth.

"I used to come here sometimes – me, my sister, my mom and my dad. Spent a lot of time learning to swim. It's a good beach for it because the water's so calm," he explained.

When she didn't respond, he added, "You know, if you did want to go in today, we could do it together. You could ride on my back if you don't feel comfortable swimming."

He saw the flash of eagerness in her eyes and watched as her mind warred between fear and excitement.

"You wouldn't let me go?" she clarified cautiously.

"Not unless you wanted me to," he assured her.

"And we wouldn't go out too far?"

"I promise. I'll make sure my feet can touch the bottom at all times. What do you say?"

She deliberated for a moment, a nervous smile washing over her face as she said, "I think I'd like that."

Luke smiled, reaching over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. He helped her to clamber up onto his back before slowly working his way into the calm water.

Rory squeaked at the cold shock, an exhilarated smile gracing her lips as they moved further out. Her legs were wrapped around his waist in a vice grip and he felt her fingers digging into his shoulders as she clung to him like a life raft.

"How's that Rory? You doing okay?"

He felt the movement of her head nodding against his skin, and chuckled as she plucked up the courage to peek over his shoulder at the stretch of blue in front of them. Bending his knees slightly, he lowered them into the water a little further, submerging them to just below Rory's shoulder height. They bobbed along, Rory's grip loosening with every passing moment.

After 10 minutes of gliding through the water, Luke finally asked, "So Squirt, did you maybe want to practice treading water? I promise I'll hang onto you the whole time."

Emboldened by the time spent floating around on Luke's back, she gave a nervous nod and allowed him to pull her around in front of him. He stood up, grasping her underneath her arms and encouraging her to move her legs as she'd been taught in her swimming lessons. As she got more comfortable with the movement, he gradually loosened his hold on her, grasping just her hands as Rory worked to keep herself afloat, grinning triumphantly.

"Look at you go! You're a natural," he complimented, proud of her for giving it a try. She beamed at the praise, her blue eyes twinkling.

"What about floating on top of the water? Would you like to give that a go?" he asked gently, careful not to push her too far out of her comfort zone.

"Do you think I can do it?" she asked skeptically, gesturing for him to pull her back toward him. He drew her up into his arms and said, "Sure you can. Piece of cake."

"And you'll hold me, right?"

"Yep, I'll be right by your side."

"Okay," she grinned, feeling bolder by the minute.

He helped her to lie on her back as she'd done at her swimming lessons, keeping one hand pressed to her spine predominantly for reassurance rather than any real need for physical support.

"I'm doing it!" Rory exclaimed excitedly.

"You sure are, Squirt. You're doing a great job."

Rory moved her legs lightly, testing the feel of the water and getting better acquainted with the concept of kicking. Eventually, Luke was able to remove his hand as she floated competently on her own.

When she finally returned to a vertical position and reached out to Luke, he took her hands in his and began to pull her through the water lightly, prompting her to giggle.

"C'mon, let's see those legs kicking," he encouraged, still holding tight to her fingers as she floated to the surface on her stomach. Her little legs kicked determinedly and Luke tugged her faster through the water as if her movements were propelling them both.

Bit by bit, he built up her confidence and encouraged her to be a little more daring, until she was finally comfortable ducking her head underwater and letting go of him for short stints.

Taking a few steps backward he said, "Okay, on three, I want you to swim to me. One, two, three!"

Rory pushed forward resolutely, her arms and legs working furiously as she freestyled – or rather splashed – toward him. Her swimming lessons had done little to refine her technique, but she was nonetheless capable of reaching her target. They repeated the exercise over and over again, Luke increasing the distance each time as her strokes became more controlled and steady.

From her position on the sand, Lorelai watched the duo interact, a broad smile adorning her face. At first, it was simply curiosity and her protective parental instinct that prompted her to observe them, but as time wore on and she reminded herself that Rory was always safe in Luke's care – even around water – she found herself attuned to their movements chiefly for the sense of warmth it conjured inside her.

She loved that Luke and Rory had developed their own bond independent from her. She didn't always understand it – particularly the long stretches of time they occasionally spent sitting together in a sort of content silence – but she respected it.

Rory's quiet countenance had always had a way of drawing people to her and Lorelai was beginning to understand that her daughter and Luke communicated in their own subtle way. Sure, they could hold a conversation or share a laugh, but she had seen first-hand from the time they spent together over summer vacation that there was a deeper non-verbal connection that seemed to come effortlessly to them – something comfortable, understated and altogether baffling for someone like Lorelai to whom words were like oxygen. Whatever the explanation, Lorelai was just grateful for the strong rapport between them.

She watched as Luke drew Rory into his arms and whispered something in her ear before hoisting her above his head and propelling her backward, her delighted squeals piercing the air as she hit the water with a splash. Bobbing back to the surface, Rory wiped the excess water from her eyes, grinning animatedly before begging Luke to repeat the action, her fear of the water seemingly all but gone.

To anyone on the beach, they could easily have been mistaken for a father-daughter duo playing in the water while Mom caught some rays on the sand. A real family doing normal family things.

The thought made Lorelai cast her mind back more than 10 years earlier to when she would visit Harvey's Beach with her friend Trish. As respected members of Hartford's high society, Trish's parents bore many similarities to Richard and Emily, preferring to soak up the luxury of the five-star resort they were staying at as opposed to mingling with the commoners in the township. Lorelai remembered escaping down to the beach by Trish's side, doing cartwheels on the sand and frolicking in the water.

The crowd of families lining the beach hadn't escaped her attention at the time and she'd watched on with a mixture of curiosity and envy as parents joined their children in building sandcastles, sculpting sea creatures, playing in the shallows and sharing stories over a picnic lunch.

While a part of her had craved that kind of interaction with her parents, she'd always known the reality would be a far cry from the scene presented in front of her if she'd ever managed to coax them to the beach with her. Emily would have complained about getting sand in her shoes and Richard would have been far too engrossed in his newspaper to pay any attention to her. She couldn't even imagine the sight of him sans suit and dressed in a swimming costume.

A rush of adoration for Rory and Luke immediately flooded through her and despite her usual opposition to participating in anything remotely resembling physical activity, Lorelai found herself impatient to join them in the water. Pulling her tank top over her head and discarding her sunglasses, she rose from the towel and took off at a run.

Exercise or not, she wasn't about to miss a minute.

-o-

The trip home was much quieter than the drive in, the trio exhausted after an action-packed day of beach activities. After their swim, they'd ordered burgers and fries from the kiosk, settling under a shady tree on the headland and taking in the glistening blue water as they chatted and ate.

They had explored the tide pools, Rory and Lorelai delighting in poking the mossy sea squirts lining the rocks and watching them spurt water. Determined to make the most of the late afternoon sun before calling it a day, they'd also built a sandcastle complete with moat and an in-house _Luke's_ diner.

Eyeing her daughter's sleeping form curled up on the passenger side of Luke's truck, Lorelai felt a smile overtake her as she smoothed Rory's hair from her face. Shifting slightly closer to Luke on the worn bench seat, she lowered her head to his shoulder and allowed her hand to come to rest lightly above his knee in a gesture of appreciation. He tore his eyes from the road briefly, pressing a gentle kiss into her hair before continuing to navigate along the stretch of highway.

When they arrived back at the Gilmore household, Rory surfaced to take a few mouthfuls of dinner, but fell asleep again just as quickly, utterly spent. After tucking her up in bed, Lorelai retrieved two beers from the fridge and padded into the living room where Luke sat on the couch, his eyes closed and his head resting against the back of lounge.

"Tired babe?" she said softly, offering the beverage to him when his eyes popped open.

"Mmm," he agreed, accepting the open bottle gratefully and shifting to make room for her beside him.

She sat down, drawing her legs up beneath her and turning to face him. "Thanks for a great day."

"Right back at you," he murmured. "It was pretty good, wasn't it?"

"The best," she nodded, chinking her beer against his in cheers. "You're so good with Rory," she added softly. "She just adores you."

"Feeling's mutual."

They sipped their drinks in comfortable silence, not bothering to switch on the TV as they relaxed together.

"I can't believe summer's over," Lorelai sighed, twisting the base of the beer bottle against her leg and watching the condensation seep into her clothing. "It seems like only yesterday that Rory went on break."

"Time flies when you're having fun," he murmured, referring to the countless hours the three of them had spent together in recent months. They'd picnicked by the lake, watched copious movies and even been to a ball game. Granted, the two girls had had no idea what was happening on the sporting field but they delighted in donning baseball paraphernalia, cheering wildly and treating themselves to the endless supply of junk food on offer.

After a brief pause, she whispered, "Thank you," her eyes downcast.

Cocking his head to one side, Luke shot her a curious frown.

"For looking after us and spending time with us. For being my amazing, doting, sexy man," she clarified with a coquettish smile. "These last couple of months together…I just…" she trailed off, shaking her head softly. Almost shyly. "I'm just really happy."

"Me too," he affirmed earnestly.

Setting his beer aside, he reached for her, his voice low as he said, "Come here beautiful girl."

She fell into his arms willingly, reveling in the warmth of his body pressed against hers. Cupping his face in both hands, she showered his cheeks, brow and lips in soft kisses, her movements slow and gentle. Luke's hand ran along her spine soothingly, his breath coming in short puffs as he cradled her to him.

"I can't imagine life without you," Lorelai whispered, brushing her lips against his once again.

"Don't want to," he murmured, breathing in her air. "Don't have to. Never."

"Never," she repeated, taking the kiss deeper and allowing her hands to caress his broad chest.

They kissed slowly for what felt like an eternity, each taking their fill of the other and conveying their adoration. Conscious of Rory asleep down the hall, they were careful not to take things too far, simply reveling in being together.

Still engrossed in Lorelai's intoxicating kisses some time later, Luke finally worked up the strength to draw away, lowering his eyes as he regretfully said, "I should probably go."

Lorelai clung to him, burying her head against his chest as she breathed, "I don't want you to."

"I know. I don't want to either."

"Stay."

The softly spoken plea caused his breath to hitch in his throat and it was all he could do not to carry her to bed and lose himself in her all night long. She'd expressed her displeasure at their parting before and invited him in after many a date, but she'd never gone so far as to outright ask him to stay the night when Rory was home.

"You know I can't," he finally whispered, lowering his lips to her hair. "Rory."

She let out a strangled noise from the back of her throat, knowing he was right but unwilling to relinquish her hold on him. With Rory on vacation from school, they'd had limited opportunities to spend time alone, save for the occasional sleepover or play date with Lane.

It was getting harder and harder to go their separate ways at the end of each day, and Lorelai was done with it. She was sick of saying goodbye.

"Want you with me," she pouted petulantly.

"Me too."

Expelling a whimper of displeasure when he extricated himself from her grasp, Lorelai dropped her lower lip and watched him rise to his feet.

"You're not playing fair," Luke pointed out, refusing to be suckered in by her plump and alluring pout. "It's already hard enough leaving without you giving me the puppy dog eyes. Cut me a break already."

Conceding, Lorelai exhaled a frustrated huff and rose from the couch.

"I've wanted you allll day," she whined, begrudgingly allowing him to tug her toward the front door.

"Join the club," Luke grunted, reaching the foyer and drawing her to him. He fingered the string of the halter neck bikini that was secured around her neck and murmured, "This should be illegal."

"You like it, huh?" she flirted, her eyes alight.

"I love it," he clarified, allowing his thumb to brush the side of her breast through the material of her tank top. "Me and every other male with a pulse on that beach," he added grimly.

"Why Duke, you wouldn't be jealous, would you?"

"Yes," he answered unabashedly. "All I wanted to do was throw you over my shoulder, take you back to my lair and have my way with you." Leaning in closer, his hot breath tickling her ear, he growled, "I wanted to make you scream my name so loudly they'd have no doubt who you belong to."

"Now who's not playing fair," she grumbled.

He hit her with the full-watt Luke smile that made her knees go weak and with a teasing wink and a shrug of his shoulders quipped, "All's fair in love and war sweetheart."

Retreating toward the doorway, he drew the keys to his truck from his pocket and stepped out onto the porch. "Get some rest Gilmore," he grunted, hating to say goodbye but forcing himself to turn on his heel.

"Hey Luke?" she asked boldly, her frame silhouetted in the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"I'm thinking…" she began, pulling up short when his eyes settled on hers. "I'm thinking maybe it's time I talked to Rory about loosening up our house rules a little. You know, so every once in a while we don't have to say goodbye like this."

The surprise on his face was quickly followed by a full-blown smile. "Really?"

"Really," she nodded, her smile mirroring his. "We're grown adults and you and I…we're um…this thing we've got going…well, it's not exactly casual, right? Maybe once she's settled in at school we can have the conversation. I think it's time."

"Time," he repeated vaguely, nodding his head and feeling inwardly thrilled that Lorelai had proposed such an important step forward of her own accord. "You're right. It's definitely time."

-o-

Lorelai burst through the diner door at a mile a minute, her hurried movements and tangible energy prompting more than one or two patrons to lift their heads as she flitted toward the counter.

Dropping down onto a stool and unceremoniously dumping her handbag at her feet, she immediately began a steady stream of babble, ascertaining that Luke must be in the kitchen given his absence from the service area.

"You would not believe the morning I've had," she huffed, lowering her elbows to the counter. "First, my alarm didn't go off, which meant by the time I woke up, Rory and I were already running a half-hour behind. That, by the way, is not something you want on your daughter's first day back at school after summer break. Naturally, Miss Punctuality was on my case so I had to kiss the possibility of a shower goodbye. I threw on some clothes that _appeared_ to be clean but on closer inspection, I gotta tell you, there are definitely some red flags going up. Not to mention the great laundry boycott of '95 left me fresh out of clean underwear, which is a whole other story. I barely choked down two mouthfuls of coffee before I had to fly out the door, then of course, my heel broke which is a tragedy in itself because the bow on those bad boys was nothing short of fabulous and now I'll never get to wear them again. I did the switcheroo with my black pumps and we made it to the car only for Rory to realize her books were arranged by subject type in her bag, not alphabetical order, which apparently is a crime on par with the Kennedy assassination – I'm not even going to pretend to understand that one – and by the time the reordering was complete, we were five minutes late for homeroom. Turns out _that_ had disastrous consequences because Rory missed jagging the desk at the front left of the room, which she says gives her the best view of the board and the teacher – god knows why she'd want to sit there – and did I mention Molly Sharmer's mother gave me the stink eye?"

Luke took advantage of the short pause she took to draw breath to poke his head around the kitchen door and grunt dryly, "No one's giving you the stink eye."

"Woah up there Bucko! I think I know the stink eye when I see it," Lorelai argued as he moved back inside the kitchen to tend to the grill. "That woman has had it in for me ever since Rory got cast as Woodpecker Number Two in the school play three years ago."

"Woodpecker Number Two? What kind of lame play needs one woodpecker, let alone two?" he called back incredulously.

"I'll have you know that was a very coveted role. And for the record, it was a Noah's Ark thing. You know, the animals go marching two by two and all that jazz."

Stepping out from the kitchen, Luke wiped his hands on a dishcloth before casting it aside and asking perplexedly, "Why the hell would you take two woodpeckers on a _wooden_ ark? Seems a little counterproductive."

"Add it to my list of questions for the big man upstairs. In fact, while you're at it, it would be great if you could find out whether the hokey pokey really _is_ what it's all about and what will happen when Joan Rivers dies; will they send her to the morgue or a plastic recycling center?"

"Some of life's true mysteries," he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Perfectly valid questions my friend."

"Coffee?"

"Thought you'd never ask," she beamed, accepting the mug he offered her and holding it up expectantly. "Gimme, gimme."

"You want something to eat?" He inquired, setting the coffee pot aside.

"Nah, managed to scoff a Pop-Tart in the car. Coffee's good for now."

"Good to see the health regime is in full swing," he noted, his words laced with sarcasm.

"What can I say? I'm a regular Jane Fonda."

"I'm getting you a grapefruit," he threatened, moving to retrieve one from the kitchen.

Eyeing his retreating form, Lorelai called innocently, "Hey, is it cold in here?"

Luke poked his head back around the doorway, scrunching up his face in thought before answering, "No, feels the same as always to me. I haven't changed the thermostat?"

"Great, so hell hasn't frozen over then," she retorted with a raised brow. "Ditch the grapefruit Burger Boy."

Luke simply scowled, shaking his head in defeat. Grabbing hold of the coffee pot once again, he methodically moved about the diner topping up empty mugs.

Returning to his usual place behind the counter, he asked, "So aside from the late start, Rory got off to school okay?"

"Yep, I swear she was 10 seconds away from spontaneously combusting from excitement."

"So just like any other school day then?"

"Pretty much," Lorelai agreed with a shrug. Leaning forward on the counter, her gaze caught his as she said, "You know the really great thing about school starting up again?"

"What's that?" he asked easily.

"Mommy gets some Baby-free time," she responded suggestively, her eyes taking on a mischievous glint.

"Well that's uh…certainly a…positive," he stuttered, his cheeks flushing red in a way that only Luke's could. Lowering his voice to match hers, he murmured, "When might this free time begin?"

"Oh I don't know. You got a half hour to spare right now?" she asked, grinning wickedly. Raising her voice back to a normal volume, she said casually, "Is now a good time to go upstairs and measure your curtains? If Caesar can handle things down here, it would be handy to get the dimensions ready for when I sew your new ones. I don't need to be at work until 10."

"I'll get the measuring tape," Luke responded immediately. "Caesar, I'm out!" he called, turning on his heel and nodding for Lorelai to follow him through the curtain.

No sooner had they disappeared out of sight than their hands and lips were all over one another.

"God I need this," Lorelai whispered breathily, drawing her lips away from his for the briefest of moments.

"You have no idea," he growled, losing his footing momentarily as they began to climb the stairs. "I've never been gladder to hear school's in session."

"Who knew Butch Danes was such a model student?"

"Going for straight As in anatomy."

Reaching behind him, Luke fumbled with the door handle before backing into the apartment and pulling Lorelai with him. Turning her so she was pressed up against the door, his lips sought her neck eagerly.

"So tell me more about this laundry boycott of yours," he whispered against her heated skin, his questing hand grazing her thigh. "Did you end up finding clean underwear or are you avoiding cold benches today?"

-o-

They lay in Luke's bed, utterly content and savoring their last moments of togetherness before they returned to work.

Lorelai was snuggled into Luke's side, their legs intertwined and their breathing slow and even.

"We need to get you a bigger bed," she murmured, leaning forward to drop a kiss to his chest.

"No way," he countered languidly, tightening his hold on her and running his fingers through her curls. "This way I get you squished up beside me at all times."

"True," she conceded, nuzzling in a little closer. "But imagine all the fun we could have with something bigger."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "I hope that's not a metaphor," he said pointedly, prompting her to laugh out loud.

"Dirty! Rest assured I have no complaints in that department Trojan Man."

"Good to know."

They fell into a comfortable silence, Lorelai tracing the outline of the tattoo on his right arm with her fingertip.

"This is sexy," she whispered, settling her gaze on the cluster of shapes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she affirmed, her lips turning up at the corners in a soft smile. "I couldn't believe my eyes when I first spotted it that day on my porch. I had to do a double take to make sure it was real. The Luke Danes I knew would never have been wild enough to get a tattoo."

"It's amazing how persuasive Jose Cuervo can be," he muttered gruffly. "Hey, that reminds me…" he added, shifting his position so his body hovered above hers.

"What are you doing?" she asked inquisitively, watching as Luke's head disappeared beneath the covers and moved down toward her stomach.

"Investigating," he answered matter-of-factly, his voice muffled beneath the cotton sheet.

"Luke!" she giggled, feeling his lips brush against her skin. "We've got to get to work. You'll have to save round two for another time."

"Very important work to be done here," he countered, his scruffy chin tickling her thighs.

"I'm serious babe. I've got to be at the inn by 10," she sighed, wishing she could spend the day with him.

She felt him move around a little more before brushing a final kiss against the sensitive flesh on the inside of her hip and emerging from beneath the sheet, his expression victorious.

"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary."

"Well, I've just answered a question that has plagued me for months now," he explained cryptically.

"Come again?"

"Gladly," he winked, dazzling her with that devastating smile.

"And just like that, the apprentice becomes the master. Who knew you had such a dirty mind Danes?"

"What can I say? I've got a good teacher."

"So what's this revelation you've uncovered?" Lorelai pressed, draping her arms around his neck lightly.

"You don't have any tattoos hidden away," he answered smugly, his eyes twinkling. "Or piercings."

Lorelai laughed, running one hand through his hair as she replied, "Surprisingly, I am aware of that fact Sherlock."

"Well, for some of us lesser mortals, it hasn't always been a foregone conclusion," he explained, crawling his way up her body and bracketing his elbows on either side of her head. "You remember our conversation that day I fixed your porch before we were together and you noticed my tattoo?"

"Bits and pieces of it," she answered, trying to replay the exchange in her mind and pinpoint exactly what he was referring to.

"I asked you if you had any tattoos or piercings I didn't know about and you said ' _None that you can see Burger Boy_.' You have no idea how much those words taunted me," he groaned, leaning forward to nibble at her ear lobe.

Lorelai giggled once again, reveling in the sensations triggered by his talented lips. "It's taken you a while to figure that out," she said archly. "We've been at this for a while now. What took you so long?"

"Well I had to conduct a thorough examination," he rationalized, trailing a path of kisses across her neck. "Inspect every curve, every dip, every inch of silky skin," he murmured, nuzzling the underside of her milky white breast gently. "It took months of study. You never can be too careful."

"No stone left unturned," she breathed, her hands tangling in his hair as she held him to her, welcoming his warm mouth against the rose pink tip of her breast. "Work. Need. Go," she choked out futilely, too distracted by his movements to put up any real resistance.

"Soon," he whispered, continuing with his ministrations. "You've already been late once today. What's one more time in the grand scheme of things?"

-o-

 **Hope you liked it! Would love to hear your thoughts so please drop me a line :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note:** Hi guys, remember me? I am officially back after a three-month-long hiatus from the writing world! I've been off backpacking around beautiful Cuba, Colombia, Panama and Ecuador (hello Galapagos Islands!) for the last little while and even had a brief stop in the US.

I'm disappointed to return to reality (and work, ugh!) but at least I have my fantasy fanfic world to keep me entertained :)

Thanks to all those who have stuck with me despite the break. Here's hoping some good, old-fashioned fluff won't leave you disappointed!

-o-

 **Chapter 14**

"Hey, leave some for me!" Rory cried in outrage, her blue orbs trained on her mother as Lorelai skilfully squirted another helping of whipped cream into her mouth.

"You snooze, you lose kid," Lorelai taunted, waving the spray can teasingly and fending off Rory's subsequent attack by holding it above her head.

The younger Gilmore scowled in frustration, her lower lip protruding as she debated how best to extract the can from her mother's clutches.

"No fair, you said last movie marathon that we could only have it for a maximum of 10 minutes before switching."

"No, I said _you_ could only have it for a maximum of 10 minutes before switching," Lorelai clarified with a smirk. "Check the fine print babe. It's right there in the rule book."

At Rory's disgruntled glare, Lorelai squirted one last helping into her mouth before tossing the can to her daughter with a laugh. "Pfft...I've got a craving for Milk Duds anyway. It's all yours."

Grinning with satisfaction, Rory kicked back on the armchair and filled her mouth with the white foam. Plumping up a cushion behind her, she waited for Lorelai to hit play on their second film for the evening. When the TV screen remained blank after a minute, she glanced over inquiringly and watched as her mother lowered the remote onto the coffee table, her expression thoughtful.

Patting the cushion beside her in invitation, Lorelai murmured, "Hey kiddo..."

"Yeah?"

"You got a minute before we start round two? Come sit by Mommy."

Narrowing her eyes skeptically, Rory asked, "You're not going to steal the whipped cream back are you?"

The comment prompted Lorelai to laugh, and she shook her head, adding seriously "Scout's honour, I swear."

"I've heard that before," Rory muttered, but she complied nonetheless, tucking herself up on the sofa beside her mother and keeping a watchful eye over the coveted can.

"So speaking of rule books, I wanted to see what you thought about possibly making an alteration to our number one house rule."

"What? No running with scissors?" Rory asked, her forehead crinkling in confusion.

"Nope, as your caregiver, I've gotta say that's still a good one to live by Sweets."

"No page boy haircuts?"

"You really wanna look like one of The Monkees?"

Rory shuddered visibly before pointing out in her defense, "Well you said number one rule! What was I supposed to think?"

"Okay, okay, maybe it's not top of the list but it's up there," Lorelai conceded. Smoothing Rory's hair back from her face, Lorelai's expression and tone became more serious, signaling a shift in the formerly light-hearted conversation.

"Well, you know Luke and I have been seeing each other for a while now," she began slowly.

Rory nodded, her blue eyes widening as she awaited her mother's next words. If this was Lorelai's way of expressing cold feet then she was prepared to go into bat on Luke's behalf.

Clearing her throat, Lorelai added, "And I think it's safe to say we all enjoy spending time together. From what I can tell, you seem to like having Luke around."

Again, Rory nodded in confirmation.

"Well sometimes we're having such a great time that it kind of sucks to say goodbye. Like the other night. You remember how we were only halfway through watching _The Breakfast Club_ and Luke had to go home?"

"He missed the best part!" Rory agreed.

"Exactly. What's _The Breakfast Club_ without Judd Nelson's fist pump at the end, right? I guess what I'm trying to ask is what you'd think about Luke staying here every once in a while? Not every night but just sometimes. It would mean making an exception to the boy-free household rule."

"You mean like a sleepover?" Rory clarified.

"Sure, you could call it that. But this is your house too so if it makes you even the slightest bit uncomfortable then just say the word and I'll nix the idea."

"Can he stay in my room?" Rory asked excitedly. "Or maybe we could have a camp-out in front of the TV!"

Lorelai couldn't help the laughter that spilled from her lips as she took in her daughter's childlike innocence.

"Actually sweets, Luke would bunk in with me," she explained. "But if you ask him nicely, I think you might be able to twist his arm into giving the lounge room sleep-out a try one time."

"Oh my God! It's going to be so much fun!" Rory gushed, bouncing up and down with eagerness.

"I take it that's a yes?" Lorelai laughed.

"It's a yes times one thousand! Can he come tonight?"

"Hey! I'm the girlfriend," Lorelai teased. "You're more excited about this than I am."

Rory gave a delighted squeal, hastily jumping up from the couch and making her way to the hall table.

"I need a pen and paper. We have to start making a list of all the movies he hasn't seen yet!"

"Easy tiger," Lorelai laughed. "Hey sweets?" she added, watching as her daughter rummaged determinedly through the wooden drawer in search of a notepad. "If you change your mind at any point, you'll let me know, yeah? You're the most important thing in the world to me. This can only work if I know you're okay with it."

"I'm _so_ okay with it. Sleepovers are the best!" Rory exclaimed.

"Well in any case, we'll start slow. Trial it for a night and see how you feel afterward, okay?"

Running back toward her seat, Rory stopped momentarily to lean over the back of the couch and loosely loop her arms around her mother from behind, the 10-year-old pressing an exuberant kiss to Lorelai's cheek.

"This is good Mom. Really," she enthused, prompting Lorelai to grin stupidly. "Now let's get this list sorted so we can hit play on the movie. Number one: _Rosemary's Baby_."

-o-

Luke slung the tattered duffel bag over his shoulder, pausing in thought as he reached the threshold of his apartment. His hand resting on the door, he gave a confused sigh before changing his mind, retreating to his bed and dropping the bag on the mattress. He scrutinized it for a moment, his arms crossed and his lips pursed.

 _This is unchartered territory_ , he thought with a grimace. What was the protocol for staying at a girlfriend's house when said girlfriend had a kid downstairs?

He'd never given an overnight stay much thought with his past girlfriends, not that there were many of them. The initial invitation generally came after a night out and a few drinks, so there was never a need for planning, much less packing a bag. In those instances, a certain level of intimacy was implied, so clothes weren't exactly a necessity. That had been the case the first night he'd stayed in Lorelai's bed, but it certainly wasn't the case now. Having Rory in the house made the process far more premeditated and far less cut-and-dry, and he wasn't sure of the right approach.

He could keep it casual, he reasoned, and just arrive with the clothes on his back. But then, of course, it would give Lorelai the impression that he was expecting something come bed time and quite frankly, the idea of getting up to anything but sleeping while her 10-year-old was half a house away made his cheeks flush redder than a bottle of Heinz.

On the other hand, he could throw some sweats, a tooth brush and a change of clothes for the morning in a bag. But was it too much? Nothing screamed commitment more than a toothbrush in the bathroom holder and he didn't want Lorelai thinking that he was invading her personal space or worse, freaking out that things were moving too quickly.

Lost in indecision, he ran a hand through his hair and murmured, "Get it together Danes. It's one night; not a god damn round-the-world trip."

Compelled to take action, he strode into the bathroom and snatched up his toothbrush, stuffing it carelessly into the bag and fastening the zipper once again. He shouldered the bag and set off down the stairs, not allowing himself to dwell on the decision any longer.

When his truck rumbled up the drive, all thoughts of spare clothes and toiletries fled his mind as Rory skittered down the porch steps to greet him. Lorelai followed her out a moment later, still dressed in her work clothes and her hair tied back in a neat ponytail.

"Hey Squirt," he greeted, stepping out onto the lawn and pushing the truck door closed behind him. He clapped a hand on Rory's shoulder affectionately before leaning in to accept Lorelai's welcome kiss. "Hey you. Hey Babette," he called somewhat louder, raising his hand in the general vicinity of her front lounge room where he suspected she was watching on eagerly with the phone receiver pressed to her ear.

Her raspy reply of, "Hi sugar" confirmed his suspicions were correct, and he smirked, shaking his head in disbelief as he slipped one arm around Lorelai's waist and allowed her and Rory to lead him into the house.

"Don't she and Patty have anything better to do with their time?" he grumbled.

"Afraid not babe," Lorelai shrugged, patting his chest. " _Bold and the Beautiful_ finished hours ago and there's at least a solid half hour window before _The Price is Right_ reruns kick off."

"I'll be sure to check the schedule next time," he muttered darkly.

They spent the evening talking and laughing, Rory delighting in challenging the adults to a game of Monopoly after dinner. The young girl had showered and changed into her pajamas and sat perched on a cushion beside the coffee table.

Neatly tucking her used 'community chest' card on the bottom of the stack, she handed the dice to Luke, her blue orbs sparkling cheekily as she eyed Lorelai's substantial holdings and said, "Your turn Luke. Good luck making it around 'Billionaire Boulevard'."

Observing the hotel-laden board, he begrudgingly accepted the dice with a groan and pleaded, "C'mon, give me a five."

"A five?" Rory exclaimed with a giggle, counting the spaces from his position on B&O Railroad. "That will send you to jail silly."

"Exactly. With any luck I won't roll doubles while I'm in there and then I'll have saved myself from going bankrupt at the hands of Fat Tony over here for at least another three turns," he explained, gesturing his head in Lorelai's direction.

"Hey, who you callin' fat bucko?" Lorelai teased, feigning offence.

"I'm just saying: some red flags are going up about the source of all that money," he pointed out dryly, his eyebrows raised as he took in her wads of cash and array of hotels.

"For that comment, I hope you land on Park Place," Lorelai goaded, poking her tongue out at him.

Shaking the dice in one hand, Luke closed his eyes as he rolled them onto the board, reluctantly opening them upon hearing Lorelai's smug cry of, "Ha! Pennsylvania Avenue. Cough up Burger Boy!"

"Ah, geez," he cursed. "How much do I owe?"

"$1,275," she stated cockily. "But I tell you what; because I appreciated your attempt at a pop culture reference – even if you did imply I was on the chubby side – I'll be nice and only charge you $1,270."

"You're a real paragon of virtue," he deadpanned, turning to his measly supply of bills and weighing up his chances of being able to pay.

"You know, if you're struggling to pull together the funds, I'd be more than willing to negotiate taking Atlantic Avenue off your hands," she brokered, a teasing glint in her eye.

"And allow you to rob me blind by adding hotels on the suite of yellow properties? I don't think so."

"Hey, just trying to be neighborly," Lorelai laughed, holding her hands up in mock innocence.

Turning over two cards he grumbled, "Okay, I'm mortgaging Virginia Avenue and St. James Place. Do you think you can lose the property mogul hat long enough to revert back to the banker role and hand me $170?"

"Certainly sir, it's a pleasure doing business with you," she taunted, plucking bills from the bank stash and grinning mischievously. "In fact, I might just hang onto these seeing as they're coming my way anyway."

"I'll be sure to throw in a couple of middle fingers to express my thanks," he muttered. Handing Lorelai the bulk of his cash and staring miserably at his remaining seven dollars, he gathered up the dice and slid them in front of her.

When it came to Rory's turn, the 10-year-old rolled a six, landing squarely on Indiana Avenue.

Pausing to look at the property card in her possession, Lorelai murmured, "Hmm, three houses. That'll be $700. But for you, I think we can forget about one of those buildings and say $250."

"Hey, I don't remember the rules saying anything about preferential treatment," Luke objected, pretending to be outraged.

"Well babe, she is the heir to my empire; gotta show her some good, old-fashioned nepotism. One day, this will all be yours Simba," she added seriously, settling her gaze on Rory and prompting the little girl to laugh. Rory paid up, once again handing the dice to Luke.

When he rolled a five and landed on Boardwalk, the lounge room erupted into a chorus of shrieks, Lorelai laughing uproariously and Rory squealing in surprise at his bad luck. Throwing up his remaining property cards in defeat, Luke couldn't help chuckling as he declared, "Alright, I'm out!"

"Oh babe, you put up a good fight," Lorelai acknowledged, continuing to giggle before turning her attention to Rory. "You wanna continue playing kiddo or should we call it?"

Doing her best to stifle a yawn, Rory murmured sleepily, "Keep going."

"You know what? You're looking awfully tired my precious one and it's getting late. I think we should wrap this up. Time for bed."

Not falling for Rory's feeble protests, Lorelai ushered her into the bathroom to clean her teeth before grabbing a fresh glass of water to place at her daughter's bedside.

After much pleading on Rory's behalf, Lorelai granted her some reading time before lights out. Thrilled at having Luke stay over, the 10-year-old begged him to read to her as he had done months prior when she'd had the chicken pox.

Stretched out on the bed beside her, Luke barely made it through two pages – begrudgingly speaking in funny character voices at the Gilmore girls' insistence – before Rory's eyes drooped closed and she drifted off to sleep.

After smoothing the bed covers and whispering goodnight, he switched off the light and retreated to the lounge room where Lorelai was busy packing away the Monopoly box. Moving to her side, he laced his fingers with hers, asking, "You done gloating yet?"

Cocking her head to the side and pretending to think, she answered, "Hmm…not quite yet. Give me another half hour and I'll have probably stopped replaying the victory in my head."

He tugged on her hand, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her body close to his.

"You know, my girlfriend once told me about this wealthy Connecticut family by the name of Gilmore that had more money than God and lots of property holdings. I didn't realize one of their ruthless members was living right here in Stars Hollow. You must be Emily," he teased, his voice gravelly.

Her jaw dropping, Lorelai gave his chest a pointed shove, howling, "Oh no you didn't!"

The laughter bubbled up from his throat and he held tight to her, grinning smugly.

"That's it. Sayonara buddy. You just bought yourself a one way ticket out of here," Lorelai asserted, her expression still one of mock offence as she gestured toward the front door.

Allowing his hand to creep a little lower so it rested on her ass, he gave it a light tap and replied, "Figures. I've heard you've earned a reputation for dismissing your servants at the drop of a hat. I guess I'll be on my way."

When he turned and made to leave, Lorelai refused to relinquish her hold on his hand, tugging him back toward her with a smirk. "Not so fast Burger Boy."

"Got a fondness for handymen, huh? I thought the pool boy or gardener would be more in line with your socialite tastes," he teased, kissing her softly.

"Yeah well, they only come on Tuesdays," she mumbled against his lips. "I need round-the-clock service."

"Don't I know it," he muttered, taking the kiss deeper.

Drawing back for breath, Lorelai looped her arms around his neck loosely and said, "Just for the record, can we leave my mother out of any conversation that involves your lips on mine? That's one surefire way to scar me for life and it seriously reduces your chances of getting lucky."

"Consider it done," he chuckled.

Yawning sleepily, Lorelai covered her mouth with one hand before saying, "You ready for bed babe? I'm shattered."

He ran his hand the length of her pony tail and nodded. "Yeah, I've been up since five."

"You taking a shower?"

"Nah, I had one before I came," he answered.

"Okay well I might go and jump in now then. You got any stuff you need to bring in from outside before I kill the lights?"

Luke blushed slightly, remembering his earlier worries and fast realizing how unnecessary they'd been. Of course it would be a non-issue with Lorelai. It was in her nature to make others feel welcome and at ease – except of course, when she was deliberately baiting him with something she knew would make him squirm.

"Yeah, I've got a bag in the car," he acknowledged. "Feel free to head up and I can lock up when I come back inside."

"Okay, sounds good. Thanks hon."

Giving him one last peck, she mounted the stairs, sending him a flirty look as she said, "Don't take too long."

When Lorelai emerged from the bathroom 15 minutes later, she found Luke perched on the end of the bed dressed in his sweats and bathed in the warm lamplight. After discarding her work clothes in the wash basket, she sauntered over to him and settled on his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"You're here," she stated, moving her fingers to twist the hair at the base of his neck. "You're here and Rory is downstairs and we don't have to say goodbye," she whispered, her eyes twinkling.

"Yuh-huh," he agreed, eagerly accepting her proffered kiss. Propelling himself backward onto the mattress slowly, he held tight to Lorelai and eased her down on top of him as she deepened the kiss, his hands fanning across her coffee cup pajamas.

"I thought you were tired," he whispered, pulling back for breath and pressing a kiss to her hair.

"I am," she agreed. "But I don't want to miss a minute with you."

"We've got all night," he pointed out gently. "I'll be right here."

Pressing soft kisses against the cotton t-shirt covering his chest, she murmured tiredly, "Would you be very disappointed if told you I wasn't good for much more than a few cuddles tonight?"

"Not at all. I'm pretty wrecked too. And besides, with Rory right downstairs, I'm not sure if...I mean it's a little weird, right?" he responded, a faint blush of pink tinging his cheeks. "It's probably best we don't."

"If that's gonna be the party line you run with long term, I'm going to need to have words with your campaign manager," Lorelai pouted, her lower lip protruding.

"Somehow I get the impression you'll be able to convince me otherwise eventually. Not much you can't manage with that damn hair flick," he grumbled.

Grinning wickedly, Lorelai stated, "Good to know. I'll remember that."

He groaned but gave her waist an affectionate squeeze nonetheless.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Lorelai stared down at him, sobering as she said, "If it helps, Rory and I have had a little chat about bedroom visitation protocol."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, we've always had an open door policy. I mean, we used to share a bed at the potting shed, so it's second nature for her to climb in with me if she's feeling sick or has a bad dream or something. It's always just been us girls so it's never been an issue," Lorelai explained. "I've drilled it in to her to knock anytime you're here because God knows I don't want her walking in on the midnight screening of Fierce Johnson and Bam-Bam in the Ham."

"Ah geez, where do you come up with this stuff?" he flinched, prompting her to grin.

"You love it," she teased, tapping him on the nose as she sat up and worked on drawing back the covers.

They slipped underneath the light blanket, Lorelai immediately snuggling up against Luke's side and sighing contentedly as he switched off the lamp.

"You want to know a secret?" she whispered into the darkness.

"Mmm," he murmured, closing his eyes as he drew in the sweet scent of her shampoo.

"I kind of like you Luke Danes."

He chuckled lightly, tightening his hold on her and replying, "I would never have guessed."

"Wanna know another secret?"

"If it's as salacious as the last one, how could I resist?" he muttered dryly.

"I'm really glad you're here."

"Another shocker. As it happens I'm pretty chuffed about it too."

"Wanna know another secret?" she pressed, this time angling her head to see his face.

"Hit me," he responded, anticipating a similar sentiment to the previous two.

Smiling broadly she confessed, "I cheated in Monopoly. Rory and I were stealing from the bank the whole time."

-o-

The following morning, Luke lay awake, his attention focused on Lorelai's relaxed form as she dozed peacefully in his arms. He loved to watch her – the steady rise and fall of her chest; the look of utter content as she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder; the barely visible lines beside her eyes highlighting countless hours spent laughing.

He knew she'd chastise him if she awoke to his unwavering gaze, but the threat of being caught wasn't enough to deter him. At worst, she'd grumble a few less-than-ladylike expletives and tell him to quit it, but despite her protests, Luke suspected she liked the attention. She was Lorelai Gilmore after all.

While he'd woken around dawn, Luke felt more rested than he had in years – something he chalked up to the presence of the striking brunette in his arms. If he thought about it, he realized he really should have been exhausted. Her incessant chatter and natural vivacity should have sapped him of all energy, but somehow, it only served to invigorate him.

Lost in his thoughts, Luke started at the sound of Lorelai's voice. A quick glance at her closed eyes and limp form indicated she was still asleep, and he watched on with intrigue as she continued to mumble a string of words – some discernible and others less so.

"M'nolos,"she murmured, leaving Luke clueless as to what she was referring to.

Her eyebrows twitched slightly and she added, "crys'al buckle," and then more forcefully, "No! The blue heel."

At that, Luke couldn't help but snort out loud. Trust Lorelai to be dreaming about shoes.

The noise appeared to draw her from her slumber and she blinked repeatedly as she tried to ascertain her location.

When her eyes settled on Luke, a lazy smile graced her lips and she whispered, "Hi stranger."

"Morning sleepyhead," he greeted warmly. "Looks like you were having a pretty good dream just now."

His words prompted her to groan and she buried her head in his chest as she mumbled, "I told you to quit watching me sleep."

"I can't help it. I like it," he shrugged with a lopsided smile, clearly unapologetic.

"'s creepy," she croaked.

"I seem to recall you didn't have a problem with it a few weeks ago at my apartment when the tables were turned and I was the one sleeping."

"That's 'cos you're pretty, Butch," she countered, a luminous smile gracing her lips at his resulting scowl. "I like lookin' atcha."

"So, tell me, did you score the blue heels?"

"Sorry?" Lorelai asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Blue heels, crystal buckle. They must have been good if you were dreaming about them," he smirked.

"Ooh! I love the Manolo Blahnik dream!" Lorelai gushed.

"She says as if it's an everyday occurrence," Luke deadpanned.

Unaffected, Lorelai explained, "They're beautiful. Always the same in my dreams. Ankle straps with this incredible suede finish."

"Oh well in that case, sign me up," Luke retorted sarcastically.

"70mm heel…"

"Clearly comfort's a big priority for you."

"Did I mention they're limited edition?"

"I don't know how I've gone through life without them."

Narrowing her eyes and poking out her tongue at his less-than-supportive commentary, Lorelai explained seriously, "These shoes have the power to change your life Luke."

"I have no doubt. They can have you joining the benefits queue and living on the street in no time. One pair probably costs more than my apartment."

"Well, if that's the way the cookie crumbles, at least I'll be a damn fine looking homeless person."

"You'd definitely fit in well with some of the crazies," he agreed easily.

Shifting her position in his arms, Lorelai yawned tiredly before asking, "So how'd you sleep Burger Boy?"

"Great, thanks. How about you?"

"Like Keith Richards after a hard night on the turps."

Luke simply rolled his eyes before pressing a kiss into her hair and uttering, "Well, for what it's worth, I imagine you're much nicer to wake up to."

They lapsed into comfortable silence for a few minutes, Lorelai eventually letting out a sigh of satisfaction as she stretched languidly.

"You know, I think I could get used to this sleepover business," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh yeah?"

"It's nice having a strapping, sexy man in my bed," she murmured, tilting her head just enough to brush a soft kiss against his lips.

"Nice to be here," he replied, pecking her lips affectionately and entwining one hand in the riot of curls spilling over her shoulder.

"You know what would make it even better?"

"What's that?"

"Coffee."

Luke grimaced at her words, watching on in disapproval as she slowly raised herself into a sitting position in readiness for seeking out her morning brew.

She scooted off the mattress, donning her robe before extending her hand to him and declaring, "I'm in serious caffeine withdrawal. Let's go Burger Boy. Chop chop."

"I can't go downstairs like this," Luke argued, gesturing at his t-shirt-clad torso as he sat upright.

"What, you need 20 minutes to put your make-up on buttercup?"

Luke simply scowled, shaking his head and hissing, "Rory," as if it explained everything.

"You know, even if she wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, I think the term 'sleepover' would have implied she could expect to see you here this morning," Lorelai pointed out, her eyebrows raised teasingly.

"I'm in my pajamas."

"So what? Join the club."

"Shouldn't I get dressed first?" he asked, clearly uncertain.

"Babe, she knows you stayed the night. It's not like you're butt naked – a fact I personally would like to change. This might come as a shock to you but she has seen sweats before," Lorelai reasoned with a wink.

At his pointed frown, she leaned back down onto the bed and pressed a kiss to his lips, adding, "I love that you care. Seriously though Butch, if you don't move your ass I can't be held responsible for my actions. Coffee's calling."

Conceding, Luke allowed himself to be dragged down the stairs, his cheeks tinging the slightest shade of pink as he exchanged greetings with Rory. The 10-year-old sat poring over a book at the table, clearly not ruffled in any way by his presence in the kitchen or choice of attire.

After gulping down her first coffee of the day and pouring Luke a green tea, Lorelai felt her energy levels beginning to rise. Rifling through the cupboards, she located two boxes of Pop-Tarts from their depths and held them up for her daughter's inspection.

"What's it gonna be sweets? Frosted cherry or chocolate chip?" she inquired, waving the boxes enticingly.

Rory barely had a moment to contemplate the options before Luke interjected, shaking his head wildly.

"No way. That's what you're planning on eating? I am not going to sit by while you two send your blood sugar levels into overdrive. Not gonna happen," he reiterated, snatching both boxes from Lorelai's clutches and dumping them a safe distance away.

"Wow, one night in the joint and he acts like he owns the place," Lorelai said pointedly, her gaze focused on Rory but her teasing words aimed squarely at Luke.

"This is the crap you honestly use to fuel your body before a big day?" He asked incredulously. "I mean, I don't know why I'm surprised but seriously, have you not thought about adding a little protein? Introducing something high-fiber? Snacking on some fresh fruit? This is all sugar Lorelai."

"You mean to tell me the fruit in there isn't real?" Lorelai asked, feigning shock and pressing her hand to her forehead in alarm. She couldn't help it; she loved watching the vein pulse in his temple when she goaded him.

Glaring at her in exasperation, Luke threw his hands up in the air and mumbled, "Why the hell do I bother?"

Grabbing her by the shoulders, he steered her toward the breakfast table and pulled out a chair, barking, "Sit."

Following his instructions, she asked eagerly, "Do I get some kibble now?" At his pointed scowl she added, "No? What about if I shake hands? Roll over? I know, I could fetch the paper."

"I'll give you 20 bucks if you play dead," he deadpanned, returning to the kitchen counter and proceeding to pull out a fry pan.

Raising her eyebrows emphatically, Lorelai directed her gaze at Rory and muttered, "Apparently _someone's_ not a morning person."

Watching as he continued to work his way around the kitchen, Lorelai – unable to stay silent for longer than three seconds – drawled, "Hey Luke? Whatcha doin'?"

"Making something that won't have you two falling asleep at your desk come 10 O'clock," he grunted, switching on the burner.

"Oh my God kid! Mommy's finally done it!" Lorelai exclaimed excitedly, grabbing hold of Rory's arm. At her daughter's perplexed look she added, "I've officially caught us a real, live hunter-gatherer! Quick, lock the doors and board up the windows! We can't let him escape now he's fallen into our clutches. We'll never want for food again!"

Reveling in Rory and Luke's simultaneous groan, and watching on as Luke cracked a number of eggs into the fry pan, she sat back and folded her arms in satisfaction.

 _Yes_ , Lorelai concluded; she had a feeling this sleepover business was going to work out very well.

-o-

As the days and weeks passed, it became second nature for Luke to stay at the Crap Shack several times a week, especially given Rory's newly discovered enthusiasm for home-cooked meals.

On the occasions he didn't have an early bread delivery to attend to, he'd throw some clothes into a bag and make his away across town, where he was consistently welcomed with smiles, kisses and an unhealthy array of junk food.

He'd slipped into something of a routine on the nights he stayed over, either cooking the Gilmores dinner or bringing it with him from the diner. They'd eat, sometimes watch a movie and much to Rory's delight, he'd continue his habit of reading to her before bed. Sometimes they'd make it through a whole chapter, and others, she'd be sound asleep one page in. On those occasions, he liked to lie and watch her for a few minutes before retiring to the lounge. Rory always seemed to radiate a sense of serenity, but it was even more pronounced in slumber and like Lorelai, he found it completely mesmerizing.

One Thursday night – after a particularly brief reading of The Canterbury Tales – he carefully laid the book aside and disentangled himself from Rory's grasp, brushing a light kiss against her forehead before silently making his way down the hall.

He'd half expected to see Lorelai's silhouette framed in the doorway of Rory's room as he did so many nights, but this time, he found her curled up on the couch, her eyes closed and her head resting on the chair arm despite the early hour.

Stroking her hair lightly, he whispered, "Hey, why don't you head to bed."

Her eyes popping open, she made to sit up quickly, murmuring, "I'm awake."

Chuckling, he perched himself on the arm of the couch and pressed, "You could really do with an early night. It's been a big week."

"I'm fine," she argued, her meager attempt at stifling a yawn suggesting otherwise. Reaching for him, she added, "I need some Luke time. I feel like I've barely seen you all week."

Settling on the cushion beside her, he cradled her to his chest and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Sounds like the Independence has been pretty crazy the last few days. You're going to run yourself ragged if you're not careful."

"Gotta do it," she mumbled. "Prove Nazi Nancy wrong."

Unsure if he'd heard correctly, Luke drew his face back to examine hers, quizzing, "Nazi Nancy?"

"Night manager," she explained sullenly.

His brow knitted, Luke drew her half-drunk glass of wine from the coffee table and handed it to her, asking, "Care to explain?"

"She hates me," Lorelai huffed. "She scrutinizes everything I do and will find any minor issue with the inn and try to blame it on me, even when it's not my fault. Today, she told Mia I double-booked the executive suite when she knew perfectly well that I had nothing to do with it."

"Why would she do that?"

"She's pissed because Mia gave me the Assistant Manager job," Lorelai explained, taking a gulp of wine.

"But that happened months ago."

"Exactly. You'd think she'd have moved on by now but apparently she's holding a grudge bigger than Pamela Anderson's golden bazoos. I guess she's just trying to prove to Mia that she made the wrong choice."

"So this Nancy person went for the job too?" Luke questioned, attempting to get his head around the situation.

"Yeah. She's been working in accounting at the inn for the last couple of years and thought she was a shoe-in for the position. I guess she didn't expect Mia to bring me across from housekeeping and to move her into the night manager role."

"But Mia knows she's cracked, right? I mean she must have avoided giving her the 2IC job for a reason."

"Apparently the only reason I landed it was because I'm Mia's golden child," Lorelai snorted.

"She said that to you?

"Not in as many words, but it was implied. This woman's about as subtle as a sledgehammer."

Luke exhaled slowly, giving Lorelai's knee a squeeze of reassurance.

"She sounds like a piece of work," he muttered. "You know what? Let her be jealous. Mia wouldn't have given you the position if she didn't think you were cut out for it."

Lorelai didn't respond immediately and instead busied herself toying with the frayed edge of the couch cushion. "Wouldn't she?" she queried quietly a moment later, and Luke could tell the question had been weighing on her mind heavily.

Continuing to focus her gaze on the cushion, she added, "I mean, I've got no business experience whatsoever and suddenly I'm bumped up to Assistant Manager? Nancy's got a point. I'd hate to think Mia only gave me the job because we're close, or worse – because she feels sorry for me."

"Hey, stop that," Luke urged. Lifting her chin so she was forced to look him in the eye, he asserted, "Mia gave you the job because you earnt it and because she knows what you're capable of. Sure, you don't have a business background, but you've been at the inn long enough to know how everything operates. And let's not forget that you worked your butt off to become Head of Housekeeping. Mia saw your work ethic and she knows that role involved plenty of management and organizational skills which you need in spades as an Assistant Manager. Besides, Mia's got too much invested in the inn to gamble with who she selects to be her second-in-charge. She picked you because she knows you'll do an incredible job. You _are_ doing an incredible job," he corrected.

"Maybe," Lorelai conceded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Definitely," Luke argued, settling his hand over hers. "Don't you even think about questioning your abilities; you hear me? You're Lorelai Gilmore. No one can do this better than you can."

"Somehow I think you might be a little biased," she teased, leaning forward to peck his lips. "But I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless."

Leaning back against the couch, Luke asked, "So what's this whole Nancy saga got to do with you working yourself to the bone?"

Lorelai couldn't help sighing. "I guess I just want to prove that Mia giving me this position wasn't a mistake. I'm looking at the books and honestly Luke, they're atrocious. We're bleeding money when it comes to the function rooms. Nazi Nancy will know that from all the time she spent in accounting."

"But that's not your fault, right?" he queried, his brow knit.

"No, it's something I inherited. I mean, we're still turning a profit overall so it's not like we're in trouble, but the function rooms really are a wasted resource and they've got so much potential as a revenue stream. I've just been working my butt off to try and attract new users."

"Any takers?" he asked, gesturing for her to turn away from him before proceeding to massage her shoulders.

"Scored a square dancing convention in November. That's about all I've got to show for my efforts so far," she smirked self-deprecatingly. "Mmmm did I mention that feels heavenly?"

Drawing her hair to one side, he pressed a soft kiss to her neck before continuing to knead her taut muscles.

"Gotta start somewhere. So where else are you going to try?"

Closing her eyes and reveling in the sensations caused by his skillful fingers, she murmured, "Possibly those guys that run the career expo each year. Or maybe the quilting club? They sometimes have exhibitions but they don't seem to have a set venue. And maybe I could ask Taylor or Miss Patty if they know of anyone looking to rent a space."

"I think they're great ideas," he agreed, working a particularly stubborn knot in her upper back. "What about business groups? Sometimes chambers of commerce have those stupid networking functions where they all pretend to care what each other does and listen to some crackpot speaker bang on about productivity and whether or not your staff are stealing from you behind your back."

"Well when you make it sound so appealing…"

Luke simply scowled, adding, "You know what I mean. My point is they hold events every few weeks, so if you could lock in something that's recurring, you'd have a continuous income and you wouldn't constantly have to be on the hunt for new users."

"Who knew you weren't just a pretty face after all Burger Boy?" Lorelai teased affectionately, turning her head to smile at him. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, say it with sporting tickets," he grumbled.

They continued to brainstorm ideas for a further 15 minutes, Lorelai beginning to feel recharged and optimistic the more they spoke. By the time they headed upstairs to bed, her doubts had all but evaporated and she was raring to get back to the inn and progress their plan of attack.

Kissing Luke goodnight, she snuggled into his embrace and silently sent out a prayer of thanks to the universe.

This, she realized, must be what having a partner felt like.

-o-

Lying in bed, Lorelai's Mom-radar had whirred to life even before she heard the creak of the third stair and the pad of little feet shuffling down the hallway. Adjusting her eyes to the bright glow of the clock as she fought her sleep-induced haze, she vaguely registered that it was just after 3am. The soft knock sounded against the bedroom door just seconds later and was followed by Rory's hushed call of, "Mom?"

Worry immediately striking her, Lorelai sprung from the mattress and rushed to open the door, finding a sleepy Rory on the other side, Colonel Clucker tucked under her right arm.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" she probed, surveying her daughter for any signs of illness or distress and instinctively reaching her hand out to Rory's forehead to check for fever.

"I had a bad dream," Rory breathed, apprehension evident in her blue eyes.

"Oh, sweetie, come here," Lorelai soothed, crouching down and enveloping the 10-year-old in a comforting hug.

"Somebody was chasing me. I was in a forest and I was trying to run away but they kept getting closer," she explained anxiously, her face buried in her mother's neck.

"Ssshh, you're okay. You're safe. It was just a dream," Lorelai cooed, stroking Rory's hair reassuringly. "Did you want to jump in for a cuddle?" she asked after a minute, drawing back and gesturing to the bed behind her.

Rory nodded solemnly, long accustomed to seeking comfort in her mother's bed whenever a nightmare invaded her slumber. She pulled up short, however, when she took in Luke's sleeping form occupying one section of the mattress.

"Luke…" she trailed off, unsure of whether she should climb in.

Casting a glance in his direction, Lorelai turned back to Rory and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she said, "If it makes you uncomfortable sweetheart, I could come down to your bed instead?"

Rory shook her head, her eyes still focused on Luke's prone form. "Here is good. But can I fit? And what if we accidentally wake him?" she fretted.

"He's awake," came the muffled reply from the bed, Luke lifting his head from the pillow sleepily and squinting across the room. "S'everything okay? What's going on?"

Standing up, Lorelai walked toward him, resting a hand on his t-shirt-clad back as she murmured, "Everything's fine hon. Rory just had a nightmare so I said she could crawl in with us for a bit, okay? Go back to sleep."

His voice hoarse from sleep, Luke propped himself up on one elbow and croaked, "You okay Squirt?"

Rory nodded silently, but retained her position by the door.

Registering her uncertainty, he patted the mattress invitingly, murmuring, "You comin' or not?"

"Is there enough room for me?" she asked hesitantly, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

Luke simply snorted, gesturing down at the small strip of space he was occupying at the very edge of the bed. "That's a question for your Mom kid. She claims all the prime real estate, so if she's willing to share her oodles of space, I reckon you're okay," he teased lightly. "I wouldn't bank on wrestling any of the covers from her though."

"Hey I'm not _that_ much of a bed hog," Lorelai protested.

At his pointed look, she conceded with a smile, "Okay, I am, but I don't mean to be Burger Boy."

Rolling his eyes, Luke jerked his head toward the mattress and said, "C'mon kid; in you get. Best you and the rooster claim a space before Goldilocks here stretches out."

Giggling softly, Rory scampered toward the mattress, smiling as Luke lifted the covers for her and allowed her to get settled. Lorelai climbed in after her, wrapping her arms around her daughter and spooning her from behind. She couldn't resist poking her tongue out at Luke mischievously when she caught his gaze.

Moving his head closer to Rory so his eyes aligned with hers – his head resting on the edge of one pillow and Rory's on the edge of her mother's – Luke whispered, "Don't you worry about those bad dreams now, okay Squirt? They haven't got a hope of getting past me and your mom. Rest easy kiddo."

Rory nodded, feeling a sense of calm wash over her as she nestled her cheek further down into the pillow.

Her eyes suddenly heavy with sleep, Rory gave him a tired smile before pressing a kiss to her hand and blowing it toward him. Lorelai practically melted when Luke mirrored the little girl's movements and whispered, "Night, night Rory, sleep tight."

Dropping a kiss into her daughter's hair, Lorelai sighed contentedly and allowed her hand to intertwine with Luke's.

Stretching her legs out on the queen-size mattress and reclaiming any vacant space, she closed her eyes and murmured, "See? Perfect fit, you guys. Sweet dreams."

-o-


	15. Chapter 15

The shrill sound of the bell pierced the air, signaling the end of another school day. Lorelai purposefully avoided eye contact with the gym bunnies to her left, the six-strong group of mothers clad in their signature active wear, with their perfect hair and their perfect nails and their perfect, sweat-free bodies after _such_ a grueling session at the gym.

She pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes, secretly hoping it would make her invisible to the PTA-obsessed parents to her right, who had commandeered her into preparing goods for the bake sale one too many times. Well, commandeered Sookie technically, but that was beside the point.

Where the hell was Rory anyway?

Willing her daughter to appear, she kept her gaze focused on the front steps, hastily bustling forward to greet her when Rory's smiling face materialized amongst the crowd of children streaming from the building.

"Hey kid, how was school?"

"It was so good!" the young girl exclaimed, accepting Lorelai's offer to relieve her of her backpack. "I got an A on my spelling test and Mrs. Fletcher said Lane and I could be lab partners."

"She did, huh? That's great Sweets. Nice one on the spelling test; I knew you'd ace it."

Rory practically beamed, buoyed by her mother's enthusiasm.

Noticing Rory slightly dragging one foot along the pavement as they walked, Lorelai's attention was drawn to her daughter's battered shoe which looked to be held together with duct tape.

"Woah, you get attacked by a pack of rabid raccoons today? What's with the shoe?"

"It's fine," Rory deflected, averting her eyes. She knew Lorelai had been happy to discover her shoes from the previous term had still fit when school resumed, saving precious funds. They'd held up well for the first few weeks of classes, but the sole on one shoe had finally given out, the front section completely detaching mid-way through gym class.

Not wanting to burden her mother with paying for new ones, Rory had hoped her DIY fix would go unnoticed for a few weeks, but clearly, she'd had no such luck. In an attempt to divert Lorelai's attention elsewhere, the 10-year-old added cryptically, "Oh and it's a gaze."

"Huh?" Lorelai asked, unsure of whether she'd heard her correctly.

"A group of raccoons is called a gaze, not a pack. You know, like a murder of crows, a gaggle of geese, a pod of whales…it's a gaze of raccoons," Rory explained.

"Somebody's been nose-down in the National Geographic books again I see."

"Guilty," Rory confessed, the corners of her lips turning up in a half smile. She'd checked them out of the library weeks ago and had been poring over them whenever she had a spare moment.

"So now that we've got the collective nouns covered, tell me: what's the name for a singular 10-year-old that deliberately avoids answering questions about the state of her footwear?" Lorelai challenged.

Blushing furiously, Rory ducked her head and mumbled, "I wasn't avoiding your question."

"Sure. And Lance Armstrong is winning all those titles through God-given talent," Lorelai replied, her eyebrows raised. Softening her tone, she lowered her hand to Rory's shoulder gently and inquired, "Is everything okay, Sweets? Did you take a tumble today?"

They stopped walking and Lorelai gestured for Rory to sit on a nearby garden ledge so she could inspect her damaged shoe more closely.

"It's fine. I was just in the middle of gym class and the bottom of my shoe came loose. Nothing a bit of tape couldn't fix," Rory mumbled.

"Well as impressive as your repair skills are there MacGyver, I think it's the end of the line for these bad boys. We'll have to get you a new pair for school tomorrow."

"But…," Rory protested, her eyes downcast.

"But what? What's the problem babe?"

"I just…with the house payments and everything. I know it costs a lot and…"

"Stop," Lorelai interjected firmly, her hands coming to rest on Rory's knees. "How many times do I have to tell you kid? Let me handle the finances. That's not for you to worry about. I know you're the math star of the family but trust me, contrary to popular belief, I can manage a bank account. Besides, I've got a bit more room to move since Mia bumped me up to Assistant Manager so you need to quit stressing."

"But…"

"No more buts," Lorelai commanded.

"But how are we supposed to get a new pair this afternoon?" Rory pressed. "You've got to finish your shift and the mall will be closed by the time we leave the inn."

Lorelai sighed, glancing down at her watch and mentally calculating how she could fit a trip to the mall into her busy schedule. She'd barely set about forming a suitable plan of attack when she heard Luke's concerned voice ring out across the square.

"Hey, everything okay?" he asked worriedly, jogging the last few meters to reach the two Gilmores. He'd spied them through the window of the diner and immediately made his way outside when he sighted Lorelai crouched down and fussing over Rory's foot.

"Hey babe, we're all good thanks. Minor shoe casualty but I'm assured all toes are intact," Lorelai explained easily.

Luke's eyes flicked to Rory, who offered him a silent nod of confirmation.

"That's too bad. You need a piggyback? I hear blueberry muffins are the perfect fix for a broken shoe and I happen to know a place nearby," he offered good-naturedly.

Pushing up from her crouched position, Lorelai hoisted Rory's school bag onto her shoulder and replied with an apologetic smile, "As tempting as that sounds, unfortunately, we've gotta get over to the inn so I can finish my shift and make a plan to replace these shoes. Rain check?"

"Sure," he agreed, tucking his hands into his back pockets as he accepted the quick kiss she pecked against his cheek. After a moment of contemplation, he added, "Hang on. Don't you finish work at six? How are you going to make the mall in time?"

Lorelai ran her fingers through her hair, explaining, "I'm hoping Mia will be able to spare me for an hour or so. We've got a business event happening in the function room tonight so it's not great timing but I'll see how I go."

Before he could give the idea too much thought, Luke found himself uttering, "I could go."

At Lorelai's confused frown he elaborated, "To the shops, you know. To get the shoes. I could take Rory."

Still looking puzzled, she emphasized, "Babe…you don't shop. Well, not unless you're being held at gunpoint, but even then I'm guessing you'd put up a fight."

"I can shop," he shrugged. "I never said I _liked_ doing it but how hard can this be? We'll hit the shoe shop, grab a pair that fits and be out the door in 10 minutes."

"It amazes me that you have a sister and yet you still think 10 minutes is realistic."

Offering her an obligatory scowl, Luke countered with, "Unlike you, I doubt Rory would try subjecting me to a fashion show, so theoretically, this should be relatively quick and painless."

Mulling over his offer, Lorelai had to admit that his help would undoubtedly lighten her heavy load, but she was also hesitant to burden him with the task.

"Aren't you rostered to work this afternoon?" she clarified, her nose crinkled in thought.

"Yeah, but I can get away. Gotta be some perks to owning the place," he pointed out. "How about I pop back for half an hour or so to help Caesar with the after-school rush and we'll hit the road as soon as it quietens down? Rory can come and get a snack in the meantime."

"Oh Luke. That's really sweet hon but it's too much to ask you to do that."

"You're not asking; I'm offering," he grunted, practical as always.

"You really don't mind?"

"Piece of cake," he murmured, brandishing his hand dismissively. "It'll be an adventure, won't it Rory?" he asked, ruffling her hair lightly.

At Rory's enthusiastic nod, Lorelai realized she was fighting a losing battle and raised her hands in mock surrender.

"Okay, well if you're sure, that would be a huge help. Thanks Luke."

As expected, Luke waved her off when she offered him cash to cover the purchase, but relented when she threatened to simply hand it to Rory instead. Despite Lorelai's protests, he steadfastly refused payment for Rory's afternoon tea, tucking his wallet away before she could wrestle it inside.

Advising Rory that she had $40 to spend on new footwear, Lorelai then pulled Luke aside and elaborated in a hushed tone, "She's pretty good with sticking to the budget, but if she happens to pick something that's more expensive, just explain that it's out of our price range and she'll let it go. She knows the big-brand stuff is usually a bit too costly for us unless it's on sale." Returning her volume to normal, she added, "The school just asks for covered, lace-up shoes. They don't necessarily have to be plain black or anything – whatever color Rory likes is fine."

Nodding to indicate he understood, Luke reached for Rory's backpack and helped her to her feet.

He watched on with amusement as Lorelai instructed Rory to behave – as if that was even questionable – and encouraged her to work on her homework while at the diner so as not to bother Luke or other customers.

"So I guess we'll head back to your place once we're done and we can decide what we do for dinner when we get there, yeah?" Luke asked Lorelai, shouldering Rory's pink backpack and appearing momentarily surprised at the weight of all the books inside.

"Sounds like a plan babe. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Did I mention you're a real lifesaver?"

She kissed them both goodbye, waving zealously and calling, "Bring me back a pretzel!" as they set off for the diner.

When they arrived inside, Luke settled Rory at a table close to the counter so she would be within his line of vision from the kitchen and would also have room to spread her school books.

Taking in the crowd of customers, Rory encouraged him to get to work, making it clear she was more than capable of being left to her own devices. Amid promises of forthcoming snacks, he uttered a quick, "won't be long," before pulling out his notepad and working his way around each of the tables.

Caught up in her worksheet, Rory barely noticed Luke's presence 15 minutes later until he slid a plate of sliced apple directly in front of her.

Staring at the fruit as if it was a foreign object, she scrunched up her nose and asked, "What's that?"

"Apple," he answered with a smirk. "Otherwise known as 'pie filling' in your household."

Ignoring his jibe, she pressed on, perplexed. "But why are you giving it to me?"

"Well kid, it's a little something I like to call healthy eating," Luke explained easily, tossing a dish towel over his shoulder. "Ever heard of the glycemic index?"

The 10-year-old shook her head, her blue orbs wide as she comprehended in the horror that awaited her in her mother's absence.

"It's a scale from 1 to 100 that you can use to pinpoint the effect foods can have on peoples' blood sugar levels. The lower the number, the slower glucose is released into your body, which means you're more likely to feel energized across the whole day. This guy comes in at around about 38," he explained, gesturing to the apple.

"Is…is that good?"

"It's very good," Luke confirmed. "You know what's not so good?"

Rory shook her head, her eyes never leaving his.

"Soda; pastries; candy; cookies," he listed, ticking the items off on his fingers.

"Ice cream?" Rory asked hopefully.

"Afraid it's not good news kid."

Gulping, she recommenced scrutinizing the apple apprehensively. Knowing what was coming and determined to try one last-ditch effort to avoid the seemingly inevitable, Rory pushed the plate back toward Luke and said cheerily, "Well, thanks for the lesson Luke."

"Not so fast Squirt."

Recognizing the battle was lost, she glanced up at him sheepishly and said, "You're really gonna make me eat this?"

"You betcha. But I tell you what," he began, leaning down on his forearms on the table so he was at her eye height. "We'll do a trade-off. You eat this and _then_ I'll bring you a muffin. That way we get one win each. Fair?"

"Fair," Rory conceded, lowering her chin into her hands glumly.

"Atta girl," he praised, a victorious smile gracing his features as he headed back behind the counter. "Better yet, maybe you can go home and share your new-found nutritional knowledge with your mother."

"You know you're going to be in so much trouble for this when she finds out, right?" She called to his retreating back as he entered the kitchen.

Poking his head back around the door frame, he winked at her mischievously and uttered, "Banking on it kid."

Resigning herself to her less-than-optimal afternoon tea, Rory sighed heavily before hesitantly nibbling at a slice of apple.

To her surprise, she found the sweet flavor and crisp texture to be quite pleasant. She didn't remember them having tasted that good in the past, but then again, she hadn't really eaten them all that often.

Drawing slice after slice from the plate, Rory soon finished the allocation of fruit, her eyes seeking out Luke for approval. He materialized from the kitchen a moment later, his arms laden with plates as he worked his way over to a table of customers. Offloading the meals, he turned toward Rory, feigning shock when he noticed all the apple had disappeared.

"Don't tell me!" he exclaimed, placing one hand over his chest. "Who knew the Gilmores really weren't allergic to health foods after all these years?"

Unaccustomed to seeing Luke partake in any kind of theatrics – other than yelling at Taylor – Rory couldn't help but giggle. Her face flushed pink with pride when he clapped a hand on her shoulder and praised, "Great work Squirt; 10 out of 10 for effort."

Leaning his head in near hers and waggling his index finger to encourage her to move closer, he whispered, "Now between you and I, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

She giggled once again, shaking her head to indicate the ordeal wasn't too worrisome after all.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," he teased. "One muffin coming up!"

As the diner rush began to slow a short while later, Luke found enough of a break to be able to sit with Rory as she finished her muffin. Flipping a chair around backwards and straddling it, Luke rested his arms on the backrest and asked, "How you doing there?"

"I'm good," she confirmed, doing her best to remember her manners and not speak through a mouthful of muffin.

"Homework going okay?"

"Yeah. Mrs. Fletcher gave me some extension words today because the other spelling lists we're learning are too easy."

"Way to go, kid," Luke exclaimed, offering her a proud smile. "So what words have you learnt so far?"

Rory cocked her head to the side, clearly thinking hard. "Umm…I've learnt 'ecology'. E-C-O-L-O-G-Y. And 'glacier'. G-L-A-C-I-E-R. This week's list is all about nature."

"No kidding, that's great Rory."

"Some of them are really hard," she confessed, blushing slightly.

Unsure whether he'd be able to provide much guidance, he nonetheless asked, "You need any help?"

Her eyes lit up at the offer and she straightened on her chair as she clarified, "Really? You'd help?"

"Sure, if I can," he shrugged.

Rory positively beamed, eagerly pushing her worksheet across the table toward him.

"Maybe you could test me? I'm having trouble at the moment because when I look at a word on the page, I get reminded how to spell it so it's not exactly testing my memory. It's only my first try learning them so there are lots on there I can't spell yet."

"Sure. From the top?"

At Rory's nod, he read out, "Earthquake."

She proceeded to work through the list of words, Luke pausing periodically to praise her and correct her spelling where needed.

"Environment," he recited finally, glancing up from the bottom of the page as she frowned in concentration.

"E-N-V-I-R-O-M-E-N-T," she said slowly, her expression uncertain.

"So close, Squirt! Just missing an 'N' after the 'O'," he explained patiently. "So it's E-N-V-I-R-O-N-M-E-N-T. Does that make sense?"

She nodded in comprehension, quickly making a note in her work book.

"Nice job. You'll have these nailed in no time," he complimented, setting the worksheet aside.

She smiled happily and thanked him before asking politely, "Before I pack up, would you please mind signing the section at the bottom of the page, Luke? I just need an adult to say that I've been through the list."

"Sure, no problem," he agreed easily, quickly scrawling his signature in the space provided.

Checking his watch, he said, "Wow, we should really get moving. It's already been an hour since we left your mom. Better hit the road if we're going to get to the mall in time."

Nodding agreeably, Rory gathered her books together and piled into Luke's truck. The drive was uneventful, with the post-school traffic having eased before they departed Stars Hollow.

Arriving at the mall, Luke found himself following the pint-sized shopping addict at his side in the direction of the shoe store.

When he saw the children's play area capture Rory's attention along the way, he said, "If it's still open once we finish at the shoe shop, we might be able to stop there on the way back to the truck if you like."

Embarrassed at being caught looking on in fascination, Rory reddened and muttered something about bouncy castles being for little kids.

"Really?" Luke countered, aiming to ease her self-consciousness. "'Cos the last time I saw one of those things, your mom was bouncing it up front and center and she's firmly in the 20-plus age group. Somehow I think you'd fit in just fine."

Rory smiled, her discomfort immediately evaporating at his words. "Maybe we could go there," she agreed shyly.

When they reached the shoe store, Rory was immediately enamored by a pair of sneakers on one of the display stands in the center aisles. Her eyes grew wide and all she could manage to coo softly was, "They're so shinnnyyy."

Luke looked on in amusement as she took in the rainbow-colored laces, a strand of silver thread running through the woven material to make it sparkle in the light.

In no time, a salesperson was at their side, the woman drawing the shoe from the stand and holding it out for Rory's inspection. After twisting it to show off the different angles, she crouched down on the floor and tapped the shoe lightly in demonstration, prompting the soles to flash with rainbow lights.

"Wow," Rory exclaimed, her mouth frozen in a wide 'O' and her eyes getting close to bugging out of her head. "They're beautiful."

It took a concerted effort on Luke's behalf to stop himself from laughing at her antics, her girlish enthusiasm reminding him distinctly of Lorelai.

When the salesperson offered to locate a pair in her size, Rory was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Oh, they're perfect Luke!" she exclaimed, her voice jumping up an octave from excitement. "I really hope they fit."

She tried on the first pair the salesperson presented and found them too small, but after bumping up a half-size, she bounced animatedly around the store, nodding in satisfaction.

"These are the ones. I don't even need to look at any others. They're perfect! Mom is going to be so jealous!"

Luke couldn't help laughing, but sobered up quickly when he saw a look of panic flit across Rory's face.

"Wait. How much are these?" she asked anxiously, her eyes flicking to Luke who was holding the empty shoe box.

Before he had a chance to respond, the salesperson chimed in, advising, "They're $49.99."

When Rory's face fell, Luke felt an automatic pang in his chest. Watching as she sat down dejectedly and began to remove the shoes, he knew he couldn't possibly bear to disappoint her. She didn't give a word of complaint; just accepted the information for what it was and prepared to select a less expensive pair, which only made him want to get them for her more.

Clearing his throat, Luke addressed the saleswoman, his eyes widening emphatically as he said, "Uh, I think that's before the sale, right?"

Missing what Luke was attempting to convey through his exaggerated eye movements, the staff member responded, "Actually sir, that's…"

But Luke promptly cut her off, winking pointedly while Rory was looking away and stating, "I thought the box said $40. Maybe we could double check that on the computer and I could go ahead and sort _full_ payment while Rory tidies up the mess we've made over here."

Finally grasping Luke's meaning, the salesperson stuttered, "Ah yes, of course. Why don't I look that up for you right now? Step on over to the counter."

Handing over a $50 bill, Luke murmured a quick thank you and added, "Sorry about that. Her mom set a $40 budget so I didn't want her to worry about going over. Can't break her heart over a pair of rainbow shoes, right?"

The saleswoman paused what she was doing momentarily to give him a warm smile and say, "That is the sweetest thing I've heard today. Your daughter is one lucky girl."

He didn't bother to correct her assumption, but simply returned the smile and said, "She's a great kid."

Indicating that Rory would wear the shoes out of the shop, he accepted a shopping bag to carry her broken shoes and said goodbye to the salesperson before making his way over to the pre-teen to share the good news. Her reaction cemented that his move had been the right choice, the young girl beside herself with excitement as she pulled the sneakers back on.

As they exited the store, Rory was drawn to the window display of a book store nearby and paused momentarily to focus on the leather-bound books set under a spotlight.

"Wow. Andrew doesn't have these in stock yet. They only came out this week and they're beautiful," she declared, completely awestruck as she pressed her hands to the glass pane. The store attendants were busy pulling their display racks inside, preparing to close their doors for the day and preventing Rory and Luke from going inside.

"There's nothing better than the smell of new books, don't you think, Luke? And these ones are more special than any book I've ever seen before."

"What's so good about these ones?" he asked, clearly bewildered.

"They're a collectors' edition of the Compact Oxford English Dictionary. See the leather covers? And the foil writing? There are so many words in there they had to split them across _two_ volumes. Can you believe that?" she asked incredulously.

"Wow, impressive," Luke remarked, and while he didn't really get the drawcard himself, he understood the appeal for Rory.

"I can't wait to sit down with them once Andrew gets them in. They're too expensive to buy but one day, I'll save up and get them. I've already got $17.40 in my money box, you know."

"$17.40 huh?" Luke questioned, making sure not to chuckle. If that was the case, she was a long way off.

"Yup. It's going to take a while, but one day, I'll get them."

"Well, it's a good goal to have Rory," he agreed, giving her an encouraging smile.

As they continued winding their way back toward the parking lot, Luke pointed out the bouncy castle and murmured, "Still open if you want to go in."

Looking between Luke and the play area a few times, a broad smile fell across Rory's lips and she nodded eagerly.

"Go on," he encouraged, flicking his head in the direction of the castle. "I'll line up and grab your Mom a pretzel, but if you need me I'll be watching the whole time from right over there," he explained, pointing to the nearby pretzel stand. "Be careful!" he called, watching as she scampered off.

After confirming she made it into the play area safely, he headed for the pretzel stand, making sure to keep her in his sight. The line shuffled forward slowly, and after securing treats for both Lorelai and Rory five minutes later, he took a seat on a bench close by.

A further 10 minutes passed and Luke finally waved his hand in the air to capture Rory's attention. When her gaze met his from the bouncy castle, he gestured to the bag of pretzels and then the bench, indicating for her to join him there.

Amenable as always, Rory clambered from the jumping castle, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright as her mother's so often were. She took a moment to pull on her socks and shoes before skipping to where Luke was waiting with the shopping bag. He handed her one of the pretzels and inquired about her stint in the bouncy castle before guiding her toward to the parking lot, one hand resting lightly on her upper back.

They'd barely made it to the exit doors when a sharp voice interrupted their exchange, the sound of a woman shouting, "Stop right there!" startling them both.

Turning in the direction of the commotion, Luke's brow furrowed in confusion as his eyes came to rest on the middle-aged woman hurrying toward them.

"Can I help you?" he asked uncertainly, briefly wondering if he had accidentally picked up the wrong shopping bag or unintentionally done something else to upset her.

"I demand you unhand that child right now," she ordered, her tone shrill and her lips coming to rest in a hard line.

"Excuse me?" Luke asked incredulously, instinctively stepping in front of Rory as if to shield her and not noticing the young girl's hushed attempt at speaking.

The woman lifted her chin defiantly, her eyes piercing and accusatory.

"I saw you lure her from the playground. Security! Security!" she screeched dramatically, waving one hand in the air and attracting concerned glances from other shoppers. When she made to grab Rory's hand, Luke saw red.

"What the hell do you think you're doing lady?" he growled, reaching one hand behind his back and drawing Rory to him protectively. "Get away from my kid."

"She most certainly is not yours!" the woman asserted indignantly. While she was unable to make eye contact with Rory due to Luke's defensive stance, she directed her gaze down to the 10-year-old's head height and in a no-nonsense tone commanded, "Rory, step away from this man right now. God knows where your mother has wandered off to but I'm taking you home with me right this second."

It took Luke a moment to register the woman's use of Rory's name and it was only when the young girl tightened her grip on his wrist and whispered, "Grandma, stop," that all of the pieces fell into place.

"You're Emily," he acknowledged through narrowed eyes, taking in the tailored red skirt suit that practically screamed wealthy socialite. He'd always pictured her to be quite a severe looking woman based on Lorelai's narratives, but he was surprised to note he'd grossly underestimated her callous manner.

"Mrs Gilmore," she corrected pompously, shooting him a reproachful look. Despite her air of superiority, Luke thought he saw her falter momentarily when his knowledge of her name made it apparent he was obviously no stranger to Rory or her family tree – and by extension, no child abductor.

Giving Rory's hand a reassuring squeeze, Luke captured the elder Gilmore's gaze and murmured in a low tone, "Listen, I don't know what you think is going on here but Lorelai has placed Rory in my care this afternoon and I'll be damned if I let her out of my sight. So if you want to call security, then go right ahead. But I think we can both agree that it's not going to get you very far and it's sure as hell not going to do your relationship with your daughter any favors."

Grappling to form a suitable rebuttal, Emily's lips set in a hard line, her eyes flashing furiously.

She was unwilling to give him the satisfaction of conceding defeat or even admitting that she didn't know his identity, so she instead shot him a well-perfected look of disdain and drew her shoulders back proudly before swiftly turning her attention to her granddaughter as if that had been her plan all along.

"Rory, aren't you going to say hello? It's rude not to acknowledge someone when they are speaking to you, you know." The self-righteous way in which she spoke prompted a wave of anger to form in Luke's gut but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to remain calm for Rory's sake.

Somewhat frightened, Rory stayed rooted to the spot, only peering around Luke's side hesitantly when she felt him offer yet another comforting squeeze of her hand.

"Hello Grandma," she whispered, her eyes darting down to her feet nervously. Memories of Emily's verbal attack on Lorelai months earlier flashed through her mind and she drew her lower lip between her teeth anxiously.

"And where is your mother this afternoon? I imagine she must be very busy if she can't be here with you."

Despite the seemingly innocent nature of the question, Luke couldn't help but notice the hint of condescension that laced Emily's words.

Oblivious to any undertones, Rory nodded, gaining a little more confidence as she met her grandmother's eyes and quietly explained, "She's at work. My shoe broke at school so Luke brought me to get new ones."

"I see," Emily responded curtly, averting her gaze and smoothing the already perfect collar of her jacket. "Well, your grandfather will be expecting me home shortly so I must be going. Best I check on the maids to make sure dinner is served on time."

Drawing her handbag tightly to her side and nodding at Rory brusquely, Emily gave Luke one last critical glance before turning on her heel and marching in the opposite direction. Her confident walk and easy flick of her hair belied none of the anguish and insecurity that swirled inside her.

It didn't take long for Luke and Rory to reach the truck, the duo only speaking when they were safely tucked in the refuge of the cabin, Rory's pretzel long forgotten.

"You okay Squirt?" Luke murmured quietly, his eyes raking her face for any sign of distress. When he saw her lower lip give the slightest of quivers, he sighed softly before drawing her into his arms.

"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, running his hands over her hair in gentle strokes. It never ceased to amaze him how natural it now felt to envelop her in his embrace, especially considering their history of awkward, one-arm hugs and pats on the back. "You're okay. Everything's okay. I've got you. I'm so sorry that happened Rory."

She buried her head in his chest in much the same way as her mother sometimes did, her tears held at bay by the comfort of his embrace. They stayed that way for a few minutes, Rory eventually drawing back and offering him a grateful smile.

"There's that smile. I was beginning to worry we'd lost it forever," he teased, tapping her on the nose affectionately. Her grin widened at his words and she let out a soft giggle, ducking her head shyly.

"What do you say we hit the road and go and see your mom? I think tonight feels like a Chinese take-out kind of night."

Rory smiled and nodded her agreement, fastening her seat belt in place and settling back into the leather seat.

They were just entering the outskirts of Stars Hollow when Rory breached the comfortable silence that had formed between them, her voice quiet with just the slightest hint of unsteadiness.

"Luke?"

"Yeah Squirt?"

"Did you mean what you said?"

He paused for a moment, unsure of what she was referring to.

"I'm not certain I'm following Rory. But sure, I only ever really say something if I mean it," he explained gently, and she wondered why she'd questioned that fact. Aside from the occasional sarcastic jibe or Taylor-fueled rant, Luke never spoke with anything but sincerity.

"You said I was your kid," she whispered, her words almost inaudible.

Tearing his eyes from the road momentarily, he glanced over at her to find her blue orbs trained on him, wide and earnest.

Thinking back over the exchange with Emily, he recalled the words he'd spoken in the spur of the moment. He contemplated backtracking and explaining that they were a slip of the tongue, and that he had no right to call her his own. For an even briefer moment, he considered brushing the comment aside and rationalizing that it was the quickest way of conveying to Emily that Rory was in his care and he was not some cracked child abductor. But when he took in her imploring stare, the hopeful glint in her eyes, he knew without a doubt that his only option was to tell the truth.

"You're not my kid by blood but I love you like you're mine."

The softly spoken words echoed around the cabin leaving silence in their wake. For a few seconds, Rory simply stared straight ahead, too choked up to find her voice.

Worried that he had said the wrong thing, Luke's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as he mumbled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you Rory. Honestly. Just forget I said anything."

He didn't have the opportunity to continue before Rory released a single sob from the depths of her throat and croaked, "I love you too Luke. You're the dad I always wanted."

And there must have been some kind of pollen in the air because he'd be damned if his eyes didn't tear up just a little.

-o-


	16. Chapter 16

Rory scrunched up her nose in thought, her blue orbs zeroing in on the striped insect she'd settled in a spare take-out container earlier in the day.

"Hmmm…he doesn't really look like a Dudley," she concluded, shooting down yet another of her mother's suggestions.

"What about Spot?" Lorelai proposed, taking a seat opposite her daughter at the kitchen table.

"Spot? But he's striped!" Rory objected, emitting a soft giggle.

"Exactly. Maybe he's a non-conformist, making a stand for the betterment of caterpillar kind. For all we know, Mr. Caterpillar here is just begging to break the mold."

Ignoring Lorelai's drivel, Rory dropped her chin into her hands and continued to ponder.

"Lane said I should call him Steven," she said slowly, not convinced the name was the best choice.

"Steven?"

"Yeah, after Cat Stevens. She said he's hands down one of the most influential artists of the 60s and 70s."

"Remind me how that relates to our little friend here?" Lorelai asked, her eyebrow arching quizzically. "Did you forget to tell me he's some kind of closet Mozart?"

"No. Cat could just be short for caterpillar," Rory explained patiently. "Lane's really getting into some old records she found at the library so her brain is full up with 70s musicians right now."

"No kidding. I'm sure Mrs. Kim would be thrilled to know about that."

"Yeah," Rory winced. "She overheard Lane mention Paul Simon the other day and Lane had to pretend she was talking about two of the apostles."

"Well _Graceland_ is practically the bible of world pop rock so she's not too far off the mark."

Rory simply offered an impish smile, turning her attention back to the issue at hand.

Studying the insect once again, Lorelai uttered, "I didn't think that _Moonshadow_ guy called himself Cat anymore. Didn't he smoke a few happy high herbs and change his name?"

Thinking hard, Rory finally concluded, "Yeah, I think he goes by Yogi now. Or York. No, Yusef! That's what Lane said! Definitely Yusef."

"Yusef's cool in a hippie, alternative way," Lorelai said thoughtfully. "But if our stripy friend here's jumping on board the _Peace Train,_ I feel like we need to add something more substantial to his title. A caterpillar of his stature deserves a little respect."

Watching the insect as it inched its way along some of the foliage Rory had gathered at the inn, Lorelai racked her brain for the perfect name for her daughter's newly adopted pet.

"You come up with any good options?" she asked, allowing her gaze to settle on the 10-year-old.

"Not really. I thought maybe Absolem like the caterpillar in _Alice in Wonderland_ because I really like that book, but Absolem was kind of mean and my caterpillar's nice."

"Quite the conundrum you've got there, Sweets," Lorelai clucked, shaking her head. "What about Legsalot? He's got what? 16 legs?"

"That's what the encyclopedia at the library said," Rory agreed with a smile, nodding her head.

"Sir Legsalot," Lorelai pronounced. "Kind of like Sir Lancelot but cooler."

"Ooh! I like that!" Rory enthused. "Sir _Yusef_ Legsalot."

"Very regal," Lorelai said decidedly, a smile gracing her lips. "Sir Yusef Legsalot it is."

Their conversation was soon interrupted by a knock at the front door, Rory clapping her hands together and squeaking excitedly, "Dinner!"

"We're in here," Lorelai called, staunchly refusing to get up and answer the door so Luke would be forced to let himself in.

He appeared in the kitchen doorway a moment later, a sheepish look on his face and a _Luke's_ bag grasped in each hand.

"Broke your leg, did you?" he muttered.

"Babe, I've told you 100 times; you don't have to knock. Refusing to answer the door seems to be the only way to get you over the threshold without an escort."

"You guys could be walking around naked for all I know," he defended, his cheeks reddening.

"Well you'll be in for quite the show then," she retorted with a wink. "FYI, Rory hasn't traipsed around in the buff since she was about three-feet-high and into Sesame Street, so I think you're in the clear there. As for me, I can't make any promises when there's tequila involved but generally speaking, I'm at least 80 per cent house trained."

Grumbling, Luke settled the bags on the bench top before turning to greet Lorelai with a brief peck on the lips.

"Not like you haven't seen the goods before," she whispered teasingly as he began to draw back, his face flushing despite Rory being just out of earshot.

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention to Rory, who was perched on a chair dressed in her ballet leotard. Offering her a warm smile, he added, "Hey ballerina. How was class?"

"Good!" Rory exclaimed happily. "I only fell over once today."

"Wow, smooth. I'm impressed kid. You must be Miss Patty's star student."

Rory shook her head softly but beamed at his praise nonetheless.

"She said to say hi to you."

"To me?" He clarified.

"Yeah. She said you were more than welcome to ring her doorbell anytime and sit back and enjoy the best show of your life," Rory explained innocently, oblivious to Patty's undertones.

Her words prompted Luke to sputter awkwardly, his eyes bugging out of his head. Lorelai couldn't help but smirk at his beet-red cheeks.

"I'll bet she did," he mumbled, shooting Lorelai a withering stare when she giggled openly.

Plating up their food, he dropped a burger and fries in front of each of the girls before taking a seat beside them at the table. Catching sight of the caterpillar he asked, "What the heck is that doing in here?"

"Luke, meet the newest member of the Gilmore tribe," Lorelai announced, waving one hand over the container and drawing her burger to her mouth with the other.

"I found him at the inn before school this morning," Rory explained proudly.

"Huh. Well, that's…uh, he's really…er…nice," he said somewhat stiltedly, unsure of what the appropriate response should be.

When Rory seemed satisfied with that remark, he dug into his turkey salad with vigor, waving off the fry Lorelai dangled in front of his face enticingly.

"Wanna hear his name Luke?" Rory asked eagerly. "Mom and I just came up with it."

Catching sight of the suppressed laughter shining in Lorelai's eyes, he readied himself for the onslaught of crazy.

"Sure. Hit me."

"Meet Sir Yusef Legsalot."

"Sir _what_?"

"Yusef. Legsalot," Rory sounded out slowly, careful to enunciate each syllable.

"Do I even want to know where that came from?" he mumbled. "Actually, scratch that thought; I already do. Your mother's mind is a scary place kiddo," he explained seriously.

"Hey! That was a team effort, I'll have you know!" Lorelai defended, smiling gleefully as Rory nodded on in encouragement.

"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree," he muttered, shaking his head and spearing a leaf of lettuce on his fork. "So how come you've got him anyway? School project or something?"

Rory shook her head, swinging her legs back and forth on the chair as she swallowed a mouthful of burger.

"No. I just found him in the garden at the inn and Mia thought he'd make a good pet."

"Well, a word to the wise; keep him clear of your Mom kid or you might have a repeat of the hamster incident on your hands," Luke teased with a wink, prompting Lorelai to scowl and lodge a weak protest through a mouthful of fries.

"I think I'm going to take him to school for show and tell tomorrow," Rory said thoughtfully, her gaze returning to the caterpillar.

"You might want to poke some holes in the container before you go putting the lid back on," Luke offered casually, gesturing to the plastic lid on the table top. "It will give him a bit of fresh air when you carry him around. I can help you with it later you like."

"Yes, please," Rory accepted gratefully, nodding her head.

"Better yet, Sookie might have some spare cheesecloth she uses for straining sauces in the kitchen that you could pop over the top with a rubber band. That'll allow him to breathe and it means he won't have any holes he can escape from. We could poke some holes in the lid to get you by for now and you could ask her for the fabric after school tomorrow."

"Okay, good idea," Rory agreed, smiling broadly. "Is there anything else I need to know to look after him?"

Luke shrugged, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of tomato. "I'm no caterpillar expert, but as long as you've got plenty of food in there for him to feast on, I guess he should be okay. Is that from the plant you found him on?" he asked, pointing at the foliage Rory had placed in the container.

"Yeah. I broke some off."

"Orange flowers on it?" he queried.

Pausing in thought for a moment, Rory nodded her head decisively.

"Sounds like milkweed," he observed. "I think you've got yourself a Monarch caterpillar there Squirt. He might be black, yellow and white now, but if I'm right, I think he'll be mainly orange when he becomes a butterfly."

"Wow!" Rory enthused, her eyes wide.

"Not bad," he agreed, chuckling at her excitement and offering Lorelai a soft smile when she caught his eye. "Finish that burger and we'll get started on the lid after dinner."

-o-

Several days later, Luke was busy brewing a fresh pot of coffee when he heard the jingle of the bells on the diner door, signaling a new arrival. His instincts told him it was Lorelai, and when he turned around, his suspicions were confirmed, sighting his girlfriend weaving toward the counter with Rory at her heels.

He immediately noticed the absence of the take-out container in Rory's hands – something that had become a permanent fixture ever since she'd stumbled across the caterpillar at the inn almost a week prior. The damn animal had been an honorary guest on the couch during movie night, rested on the table during meals and even perched at Rory's bedside overnight, much to the young girl's delight.

When they reached the counter, he greeted them before asking, "Where's your friend? His royal highness whatshisface pull a Houdini on y…?"

Taking in Lorelai's wide eyes and subtle shake of the head, he trailed off, clearing his throat when she leaned across the counter under the guise of a welcome kiss and whispered, "Ixnay on the aterpillarcay."

Drawing back, he couldn't help but notice the slight slump of Rory's shoulders and the way her eyes stayed fixed on the floor. Shooting Lorelai a confused look, he murmured softly, "Rory? You okay Squirt?"

His heart practically broke in two when she raised her head and a lone tear leaked down her cheek, her blue orbs shimmering with sadness. Abandoning the coffee pot, he made his way around the counter, crouching down in front of her and resting his hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"What happened?"

Shaking her head, Rory staved off a fresh wave of tears by burying her head in her mother's side, a choked sob escaping her lips.

"Hey, it's okay," Luke soothed, but internally, he felt powerless against her tears.

"Someone's had a rough day today," Lorelai said quietly, rubbing her hand across Rory's back. "You want to give it to him?" she prompted.

Rory sniffled, but managed to draw her face away from her mother to offer Luke the tightly folded piece of paper clenched in her right hand, a brightly colored caterpillar hand drawn on the outside. He frowned as he read the neat scrawl, the occasional blurred word indicating Rory had been crying when she'd penned it.

 _Dear Luke, you are invited to the funeral of Sir Yusef Legsalot – a treasured pet, keen eater and friend to all._

 _When: Tomorrow, 3.30pm.  
Where: The Crap Shack, 37 Maple Street, Stars Hollow. Please meet at the mailbox._

 _Donations to the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation are welcome but not compulsory._

 _Please join us as we celebrate his life and share memories of our time together. I hope you can make it._

 _Rory x_

If it weren't for the despondent 10-year-old staring up at him hopefully, Luke would almost have laughed out loud at the note. As it was, he could see the slightest hint of a smile tugging at Lorelai's lips as she took in his reaction.

"So will you come?" Rory sniffled, her cheeks now stained with tear tracks. "I think Sir Yusef would have wanted you there. He was really glad that you helped with poking holes in his container."

Ignoring the stares of other diner patrons and the ribbing he would inevitably cop from Bootsy and Tom later, Luke nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind Rory's ear as he responded, "I, er…of course I'll be there."

Offering him a watery smile, Rory stepped forward to wrap her little arms around his neck, Luke embracing her tightly and patting her back.

Returning to a standing position, Luke helped Rory to clamber onto a stool at the counter and said, "How about some cherry pie. It sounds like you could use some cheering up."

"Ooh! I'm sad too!" Lorelai exclaimed, prompting Luke to roll his eyes. "Any chance we could get that cheer to go hon? We've got to get back to the inn so I can finish my shift. I just popped out to collect Rory from school when I heard the bad news."

At her words, Rory was hit with a fresh wave of tears, her lower lip trembling as she said, "I…I don't want to go back to the inn yet. That's where I first f-found S-sir Yusef," she stammered.

"Oh babe," Lorelai clucked, looking on helplessly as she tried to soothe her daughter. "Well maybe you can hang out with Sookie in the kitchen today. We won't go into the garden, I promise. It will be okay sweetie."

"N-no," Rory choked out, the tears falling freely now.

Lorelai and Luke exchanged a concerned glance, the elder Gilmore drawing her daughter into her arms and pressing a soft kiss into her hair.

"Hey, why don't you stay here with me this afternoon?" Luke offered, lowering his elbows to the counter and looking her in the eye. Rory hiccoughed and eyed him with curiosity.

"I mean, I don't clock off for a few hours so it won't be the most exciting afternoon, but it saves you having to go back to the inn just yet. And it wasn't so bad when you came here after school last time, right?"

Rory nodded, her tears slowly starting to dissipate. She looked to her mother for confirmation, her blue eyes wide and seemingly larger than usual.

"If it's fine with Luke, then it's fine with me," Lorelai agreed, offering Luke a grateful smile. "Are you sure babe?" she queried, hesitant to saddle him with an upset child. It was no secret that Luke felt out of his depth when it came to crying females.

"No problem," he nodded, clearing his throat. "We'll hang out here and I'll bring her by with some dinner for all of us after my shift."

"Thank you," Lorelai whispered, squeezing his hand. "If you need me, you can always call and I'll come straight back."

"I got it," Luke confirmed with a wave of his hand, his tone showing more confidence than he felt.

Placing Lorelai's pie in a paper bag, he folded down the top and held it out for her.

"Does today's sadness special come with a cup of Joe?" Lorelai asked opportunistically, lifting her nose to inhale the intoxicating aroma.

He scowled, but begrudgingly filled a to-go cup and snapped on the lid. Sliding it across the counter toward her, he leaned in to accept her farewell kiss, murmuring quietly enough that Rory couldn't hear, "You keep drinking this stuff and you'll go the same way as that caterpillar."

She snorted, pressing a second kiss to his lips before answering, "Gotta go somehow; might as well enjoy it Burger Boy." Still keeping her voice low, she whispered, "Distraction will work best for her this afternoon. If you can find something to occupy her, she'll be fine."

Putting up a half-hearted fight over payment, Lorelai picked up her food and drink, gave her daughter one last hug goodbye and left the diner.

"So kid, just you and me now," Luke exhaled, resting his hands on the counter top. "Can I get you something to drink too? Pick your poison…anything you want."

"Coffee?" Rory wagered boldly, knowing she'd be shot down in an instant.

"Anything but that," he scowled.

"Chocolate milkshake?" she countered, figuring it was the next best option.

"You got it." Moving to place the order, he paused in the doorway of the kitchen, pointing a finger at her as he said sternly, "You repeat one word of what I'm about to say back to your mother and you're toast, you hear me?"

Turning back to Caesar, he muttered, "I need one of those damn Diabetes drinks Lorelai tried to add to the menu a few months back. The one with all the chocolate syrup and cream, you remember?"

"But you said I wasn't allowed to make one under any circumstances," Caesar argued, his eyes wide and imploring.

"Caesar," Luke sighed.

"You said I had to resist no matter how much someone begged," Caesar pressed. "Wait, is this a test?" he added, slightly panicked.

"Who's paying your wages?" Luke growled. "If I ask you to make one, you go ahead and make one. But the blanket ban still stands if Lorelai's the one asking, you got that?"

"She doubles my tips when I do it behind your back," Caesar muttered.

"What?" Luke asked sharply.

"Nothing, nothing," Caesar covered, brandishing his hands nonchalantly. "I said I'll get right on that."

Satisfied, Luke nodded his head and returned to the service area, hurriedly making his way around the tables and topping up cups of coffee. When Mrs. Slutsky ambled over to the register to pay, Rory glanced around, hoping to catch Luke's eye. She watched as he scrawled on his notepad, taking orders from a large table of customers by the window.

Noticing he was only half-way around the group and Caesar was occupied in the kitchen, Rory bit her bottom lip uncertainly before climbing down from her stool. Scampering over to a nearby table, she grabbed hold of a spare chair and slid it across the diner floor so it rested in front of the register. Climbing up onto it, she popped up in front of Mrs. Slutsky and said, "Here, let me help you. Table by the door?"

At the older lady's nod – a hint of humor and surprise in her eyes – Rory clarified a price on the menu beside the register and punched in the numbers, ringing up the total as she had learned to do when Luke had been off sick with the chicken pox.

"That will be $12.95 please," she pronounced, carefully counting the handful of bills Mrs. Slutsky handed to her and smiling shyly when the older lady told her to keep the change.

Her grin widened when Mrs. Slutsky praised her service skills and waved as she departed the diner. Sliding the chair back into position, Rory returned to her stool at the counter, her movements going unnoticed by Luke.

After he delivered his order to the kitchen and served Rory her milkshake, he surveyed the remaining tables and exclaimed, "Ah shoot, what happened to Mrs. Slutsky?"

"She was ready to leave so I rung up her order. I hope that's okay," Rory confessed shyly.

"You did?" Luke quizzed, clearly taken by surprise. "Thanks kid, that's a big help."

Rory allowed a brief smile to flicker across her lips, shrugging as she said, "No problem, I like doing it. It was fun when Mom and I worked in the diner that time."

Watching as she pulled on her straw and began to devour her beverage, Luke recalled Lorelai's words about occupying Rory's time to take her mind off the caterpillar.

Throwing a dish towel over his shoulder, he eyed her carefully before saying, "You know kid, I could really do with an extra set of hands around here this afternoon. What do you think about helping me out for a couple of hours?"

Her eyes immediately brightened as she asked, "Really? I could do that?"

"Only if you want to," he shrugged. "But if you've got any homework, we should get that out of the way first."

"Okay," she agreed, pulling her books from her bag so she could get started as soon as possible. "I just need to run through my spelling list and then I'll be ready."

"No problem, take your time. I'll bring you a snack while you're at it."

A short time later, Luke slipped half a grapefruit in front of Rory, adding, "You know the drill. Down the fruit and then you get your pie."

Sighing resignedly, Rory gulped down the slices as quickly as possible, her face scrunching up in disgust with every bite. If it wasn't for Luke's pie being so damn good, there was no way she'd subject herself to that kind of torture.

When she was half-way through her pie, she noticed the diner rush had slowed momentarily, allowing Luke to return to the counter and check in with her. As he had done on the afternoon they'd gone to the mall, Luke offered to test her on her spelling list. She had moved on from environment-related words, with the weekly theme focusing on business.

They worked through the list steadily, Rory successfully spelling out 'management', 'corporate', 'merchant', 'enterprise' and 'agreement' amongst many more.

When they reached the bottom of the list, Rory clapped her hands together and said, "All done! Time for me to get to work. Can you show me how to flip the burgers?"

Shaking his head adamantly, Luke said, "Not a chance, sorry kiddo. Can't have you burning yourself on the grill. Believe me, the hot oil flicks everywhere," he explained, holding up his work-roughened hands as if to prove his point.

"Can I chop something?" she countered, watching through the doorway to the kitchen as Caesar sliced some tomatoes.

"Are you trying to pick the riskiest activities or what?" He joked. "Your mom will have my head if I let anything happen to you. Safe activities only thanks…no knives or hot grill plates allowed."

"Okay," she sighed, doing a poor job of feigning displeasure.

"You said you like working the register. You can do that if you want? I promise, it pays just as well. Better actually, if you think about all the tips," he winked, prompting her head to snap up.

"I'd get paid?" Rory asked incredulously.

"Well, sure. I mean, you're doing the work, right? It's only fair. Maybe you can put it toward that fancy dictionary you want so much."

He could have sworn her jaw almost hit the floor, and she beamed excitedly, thoughts of her caterpillar having temporarily fled her mind.

"Tell you what; you wipe down the tables and counter as well and I'll throw in a little extra something," he offered good naturedly.

"If I fill up the salt and pepper shakers, will you promise to stop force feeding me fruit?" Rory bargained, her eyes narrowing and her arms folding across her chest.

Luke couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head in response. "Never. Where do you even come up with this stuff?"

"It's called N-E-G-O-T-I-A-T-I-O-N," Rory spelt out, smiling proudly at having been able to use one of the words she'd just learned in a sentence.

"Nice one; I'm impressed," Luke praised with a wink. "But the answer is still no."

Pouting, Rory placed her palms down flat on the counter and leaned forward, staring him in the eye. "How about I look after the salt and pepper shakers, you ditch the grapefruit and we'll call it even? Apple and berries I can handle, but grapefruit? That's just nasty."

Luke seemed to ponder the proposal for a moment, finally offering his right hand and grunting, "You drive a hard bargain Squirt. Deal."

-o-

When Luke arrived at the Gilmore household the following day, he was surprised to find the garage doors wide open, a series of thuds and clangs sounding from inside. Detouring away from the porch, he approached the garage, curiosity evident in his features. It wasn't often that Lorelai or Rory ventured out there, the duo preferring the 'out of sight, out of mind' theory they generally applied to the myriad of boxes stored inside.

Lorelai almost jumped out of her skin when he poked his head around the corner and murmured a quiet hello. When she realized it was just Luke and her heart began returning to a regular rhythm, she quickly scrambled to greet him from her cross-legged position on the floor.

"Hey stranger. What are you doing here?" she inquired, leaning in to drop a welcome kiss against his lips.

"I could ask you the same question," he replied, gesturing to the mess of boxes scattered around the garage floor and raising one eyebrow quizzically.

"Spring cleaning," she shrugged.

His face etched with confusion, Luke clarified, "You realize it's not spring, right?"

"Yep."

"And you know spring cleaning involves actual cleaning, right?" he pressed, knowing Lorelai's disdain for the activity.

"Well, I'm no Einstein, but surprisingly, I did pick that one up," she quipped, rolling her eyes.

"And you know…" he began, but Lorelai silenced him by pressing a finger to his lips.

"Would it make more sense to you if I told you I just wanted an excuse to wear my new head scarf?"

She pushed up her hair theatrically to highlight the pink fabric wrapped around her curls and batted her eyelids flirtatiously. "Cute, huh?"

"Very," he barked dryly, reaching out one hand to tug on one of her tresses. "So are you actually having any luck getting through these boxes?"

"Nah. Just the thought of unpacking has me contemplating chewing off my own hands so I can avoid it."

"Might be a little extreme," he pointed out.

"Go hard or go home, I say," she returned with a wink. "Now you're here though I have the perfect excuse to call it a day. Here, help me tape up the box I just untaped," she instructed, prompting Luke to regard her with bewilderment before resigning himself to the fact it was probably better not to ask questions.

Eyeing her watch, Lorelai added, "So how come you're here at this time on a Saturday? I thought you were working all morning."

"I was supposed to be," he agreed. "I called in one of my casuals to cover for me. Thought I'd see if Rory was up for a quick outing before the funeral this afternoon."

"What kind of outing?" Lorelai asked, intrigued, as she lifted the box on top of the growing stack.

"That's for me to know and Rory to find out," he replied with a smirk, knowing the suspense would drive her mad.

"Tell me," she pressed, threatening to drop her lower lip in a pout.

"Nope," he said easily, shaking his head. "Secret caterpillar business I'm afraid."

"Luuukkke," she whined, the look of frustration and stubbornness on her face prompting him to chuckle.

Tugging on her hand and drawing her to him, Luke tapped her on the nose affectionately and said, "Anyone ever call you a stickybeak?"

"Amongst other choice names, yes," Lorelai smirked.

"Figures," he grunted. "If you must know, I thought I'd take her to make a cross or headstone for Sir…for the damn caterpillar," he corrected, ignoring the bemused smile she bestowed upon him.

"No fair. How come Rory gets an invite and I don't?" she implored, looping her arms around his waist loosely.

"Because she's genuinely upset and you're just milking his death to score pity coffee," he retorted with a pointed glare. "That and I didn't think you'd be interested. It's only gonna be a friend's dusty shed with lots of tools and woodworking stuff."

"Rory's not going to lose a finger is she?" Lorelai asked skeptically, her brow knitted.

"All fingers and toes will come back intact, I promise."

When Lorelai didn't raise any further resistance, Luke added, "You're welcome to join us but I thought you might like the morning off for a change. No kid to look after, no inn to run…you can take a break."

The idea of having time to herself was so foreign to Lorelai that she actually faltered as she asked, "A break? But…but what would I do?"

"Whatever you like. Read a book, go visit Sookie, buy some shoes. Actually, nix that last one," he added thoughtfully. "You've already got enough to last you a lifetime."

"Ooh, shoes!" she cooed, prompting him to groan.

"Is that a yes?"

Lorelai tilted her head to the side, taking a moment to ponder the idea.

"I don't know. I guess," she said slowly. "I don't remember the last time I did anything like this."

"Well there's your answer. You're overdue. Consider yourself officially off duty," Luke said decisively.

She broke out in a broad grin, still unsure of what to do with her new-found freedom but excited by the prospect.

While Lorelai found herself slipping into a relaxing bubble bath 30 minutes later, Luke and Rory trundled along a dirt road outside Litchfield, the cab of the old truck bouncing as Luke did his best to maneuver around the countless potholes.

"Where are we?" Rory questioned curiously as Luke signaled left and navigated through an open farm gate. The track leading to the house and shed was long and dusty, and Rory's eyes took in the buildings situated toward the back perimeter of the property.

"Back of Litchfield. Some friends of mine live here," Luke explained casually.

"Are they going to help us make the cross for Sir Yusef's grave?" Rory asked, her eyes wide.

"Nah, I think we'll have the place to ourselves. Buddy lets me drop around whenever I like to use his workshop."

"Buddy?" Rory queried, craning her head to get a better look at the sprawling property surrounding them.

"A family friend. Known him all my life. His wife Maisy too."

Rory nodded, her eyes settling on the house as they pulled to a stop on the grass. It was small and simple – albeit slightly run down – with a wraparound porch. Despite the flecking paint and weathered wood, it had a homely feel to it.

A flash of movement in her peripherals prompted Rory to turn her head quickly and she started at the sight of a heavy-set Labrador waiting eagerly for her to open her door, its tongue hanging from its mouth.

"Uh, Luke…" she trailed off timidly, a little frightened of stepping down from the cabin.

Noticing the animal, Luke waved his hand casually and said, "No need to be afraid. That's just Molly. The worst she'll do is try to lick you to death."

Reassured, Rory opened the door, giggling when the dog immediately sniffed her hand and gave her a welcome lick.

"See? She likes you," Luke explained, rounding the truck and closing Rory's door behind her. "Hey girl," he added, giving the dog an obligatory pat on the head. Her tail wagged furiously and she promptly nudged Luke's hand the second he stopped patting her. "I see you're just as demanding as last time I saw you," he grumbled, but he reached out and gave her a brief scratch behind the ears nonetheless.

Walking up onto the porch, Luke knocked on the front door, waiting patiently for any signs of life as Rory continued doting on the Labrador. When he was greeted with silence, he returned to Rory's side and explained, "Not home. I thought I should at least check. C'mon, let's head down to the shed Squirt."

"Are you sure they won't mind us being here?" she asked apprehensively, falling into step beside him and taking in the flourishing vegetable patch they passed.

"Positive. They've given me my own key and everything. I think Buddy's just happy to see someone get some use out of his workshop."

Unlocking the door a minute later, Luke propped it open with a nearby bucket, gesturing for Rory to enter ahead of him. She took in the expanse of tools – some neatly hung on hooks on the walls and others scattered across the work bench.

Cracking open a window, Luke concluded that the sunlight streaming inside would be sufficient to illuminate their work space, and he clapped his hands together, stating, "Let's get started kiddo."

Rory scampered up to the work bench excitedly, her eyes roaming over the various pieces of equipment as she tried to work out what function they all performed.

"First things first; we've got to decide what timber we want to use. Any preferences?" he asked, pointing to a stack of wooden boards and offcuts leaning against one wall. He held up a few boards for her inspection, nodding when Rory pointed to one.

"Is that okay?" she asked shyly, unsure of whether she'd selected something suitable.

"It's great. We can definitely work with this," Luke acknowledged, running his fingers over the plywood lightly. He placed it on the bench top and rifled through a nearby drawer until he located a pencil and ruler.

"Okay, first we're going to need to measure out our cross and mark it up on the wood. How big do you want it to be?" he queried.

"Maybe this big," Rory suggested, using her hands to indicate a space no taller than 10cm. "Sir Yusef's only little so we don't need anything huge."

"Good point. Well, to make sure everything lines up perfectly, we'll just need to double check all our corners are right angles. You've covered those in math class, yeah?"

Rory nodded enthusiastically, recalling a school lesson from the previous year.

"Good, you're going to be a master woodworker in no time. Hand me that metal square?"

"Square: check," Rory stated confidently, placing the item he'd pointed at in his outstretched hand. Luke set about marking up the wooden board, talking Rory through the process and letting her do as much as possible with his guidance.

She methodically checked each angle that they'd marked in pencil, then watched on in interest as Luke fired up the drop saw on the other side of the room. He cut the pieces to size, making sure she was decked out in safety glasses and stood well clear of the machinery while it was in operation.

Molly – who'd been patiently waiting in the doorway since they'd arrived at the shed – slunk away silently, clearly not a fan of the loud noise.

Returning to the work bench, Luke allowed Rory to inspect their handiwork. Each of them took hold of one piece of wood and proceeded to smooth them lightly with sand paper. Once they were free from any jagged edges and splinters, Luke settled Rory's piece in the clamp.

He selected a hand saw from one of the hooks and said, "I could have cut this on the drop saw too but I thought it might be more fun to do it by hand. You want to give it a go?"

Rory nodded, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in her eagerness to continue with their work.

Luke started off the initial cut, making it easy for her to simply move the saw back and forth in line with their pencil markings. They repeated the process several times, taking care to only saw halfway through the plywood. Luke then took hold of a chisel and mallet proceeded to demonstrate how to strip away the waste wood, leaving an indent where the two pieces of wood would intersect.

"This is a paring chisel Rory. So we line it up like this and then we tap it on the end with the mallet to knock some of this unnecessary wood out of place. You see? Just like that."

Rory watched on with intrigue, her forehead creased in concentration. After trying her hand at the task, she discovered it wasn't her forte and happily handed the job back over to Luke to finish.

It didn't take long for Molly to return to the shed, the dog cautiously stepping inside and listening for any signs of the dreaded drop saw before meandering over to sit at Rory's feet.

Luke blew on both pieces of wood to clear any excess wood shavings, finally dusting his hands off on his jeans. When he was satisfied the cutouts were up to scratch, he went on to demonstrate to Rory how the two pieces slotted together.

"This is what we call a cross lap joint," he explained patiently. "The two bits of wood cross over each other but interlock at the same time so they stay in place. We can also add a bit of glue to make sure they hold firm."

Rory readily took on the task of gluing, her tongue resting between her teeth as she focused intently on distributing it evenly.

As they waited for the glue to dry, the duo proceeded to return each of the tools to where they found them.

Molly lifted a sleepy eye to watch them every few minutes, but was largely content to doze in their presence and accept the numerous pats Rory bestowed upon her.

As Luke was finishing up showing Rory how the wood burner worked – allowing them to etch 'RIP' into the cross – they heard the sound of a car engine outside, prompting Molly's ears to prick up and her tail to thump against the floor wildly.

"Who is it, girl?" Luke asked, not having to wait long to find out when Buddy's face peeked around the doorway.

"Lucas!" the older man greeted cheerfully, a toothy smile adorning his face. "I saw your truck out front and thought I'd find you here. What a treat to have you by!"

"Hey Buddy, nice to see you," Luke greeted, moving forward to clap him on the back. Molly rushed to her owner's side, nudging Luke out of her way as she moved from foot to foot with excitement.

"Hello to you to Mol," Buddy murmured, tousling her soft fur. "I hope she hasn't been bothering you too much."

"Not at all. She and Rory here have become fast friends," he pronounced, drawing attention to the young Gilmore who loitered by the work bench nervously.

Before Buddy could respond, his wife appeared beside him, proclaiming, "Lucas! What, you just sneak in and out these days without even stopping for tea? Get over here and give me a hug already."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her briefly. "How you doing, Maisy?"

"Better than snuff and not half as dusty," she quipped, brandishing one hand casually.

"And who might this be?" she asked, catching sight of Rory.

"Maisy, Buddy, I'd like you to meet Rory Gilmore," he replied, offering Rory a warm smile. He gestured for her to come over, wrapping one arm around her shoulder reassuringly when she appeared at his side.

"Well hello there little lady. Nice to meet you," Maisy greeted, holding out a hand to shake.

Rory took it politely, quietly replying, "Pleased to meet you too," just as her mother had taught her.

"My, my, aren't you a gorgeous little thing."

"Top student in her grade too," Luke boasted proudly, offering Rory a wink.

Never one to miss a trick, Maisy noted, "Gilmore, you said? Don't tell me I finally get to meet one of the infamous Gilmore girls that Mia raves about so often."

"Sure do," Luke agreed. "We gave Mom the morning off today, didn't we Squirt? This one's the least crazy of the two," he smirked.

"Well I'm glad young Lucas here has someone to keep him in line," Maisy said pointedly. When she turned her gaze on him and regarded him with interest, Luke knew she had already cottoned on to the fact that the elder Gilmore was perhaps more than just a friend.

Giving him a look that clearly indicated they'd be having that conversation later whether he liked it or not, Maisy returned her attention to Rory, inquiring conspiratorially, "You showing him a thing or two about woodworking?"

The 10-year-old giggled, shaking her head shyly.

"She's downplaying it. Rory's got some serious skills," Luke said with a nod, prompting the young girl to swell with pride. "I'd say she could even give Buddy a run for his money."

Smiling encouragingly, Maisy said, "Well you two better get your backsides up to the house for some lunch. Don't think I'm going to pass up the opportunity to have a meal with you when you've come all this way."

"Oh, honestly Maisy, we don't want to put you ou…" Luke began, but she promptly cut him off, commandeering the conversation as she so often did.

"Nonsense. You'll come up to the house and you'll test out the new dishes that we're about to roll out at the tavern. Don't even think about getting out of this one sonny," she warned, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, Luke chuckled and said, "Okay, okay. I give in. I know a losing battle when I see one."

"Thought you'd see things my way."

Packing away the wood burning kit, Luke and Rory grabbed hold of their handiwork and followed the couple toward the house, Molly hot on their heels.

Once they'd washed their hands and were seated on the stools overlooking the breakfast bar, Maisy bustled about the kitchen, chattering non-stop as she worked.

"Buddy's cheese dip is going gangbusters and we've got a new guacamole recipe that'll knock your socks off," she informed them, her animated hand gestures reinforcing her words. Barely drawing breath, she called loudly, "Buddy! Won't you go ahead and get our boy here some guacamole. Easy on the chili."

Nodding dutifully as he entered the room from down the hall, Buddy immediately set about pulling ingredients from the fridge.

"Here, let me do something to help," Luke offered, moving to shift off the stool.

"Rubbish. Don't you dare even think about it," Maisy scolded, and Luke knew better than to argue with her. "You sit right there and bring me up to speed on all things Lucas Danes. That includes this little beauty," she rambled on, jerking her head toward Rory. "God knows I've barely seen you for months."

"Sorry about that Maisy," Luke mumbled, rightly chastised. "Time's just gotten away from me."

She waved off his excuse, turning to the chopping board to slice some lemons.

"Must be some girl you've got if you can't find time to see your doddering old aunt and uncle," she challenged sassily, knowing Luke would register the playfulness in her words.

The comment prompted Rory to whip her head around in Luke's direction, and she clarified incredulously, "Maisy and Buddy are your aunt and uncle? You didn't mention that."

Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "Despite what Maisy might tell you, technically they're not – well, at least not by blood."

"Blood schmood," Maisy hollered. "Never let the truth get in the way of a good story. You know as well as I do Lucas that you're as good as family."

"I know," Luke conceded, offering her a warm smile.

Addressing Rory, Maisy said with a wink, "Known him since the day he was born. Buddy and I were in the hospital waiting room when he made his grand entrance. Mia too."

"Mia was there when you were born?" Rory exclaimed, gob-smacked.

"So the story goes," Luke shrugged.

"Wait, how do you know Mia?" the young girl asked, looking back at Maisy.

"We've been friends for years," she answered, casting a glance at Luke to see whether he'd be willing to expand on her statement. She was surprised when he did, knowing his inclination for avoiding mentioning his parents.

"Maisy went to school with Mia and my mom. They all met as kids," Luke explained.

"Thick as thieves, they were," Buddy piped up. "You could hardly pull them apart when they got together. Always up to mischief."

"Oh, rubbish," Maisy admonished, but she smiled at her husband's words nonetheless. "Don't listen to him Rory."

Pilfering a grape from the bench top and popping it in his mouth, Luke joked, "I don't know Maisy; I've heard the stories. Something about a hose, a hillside, a bottle of washing detergent and old man Henderson's beloved Mr Whiskers."

"Pipe down Lucas. That's enough out of you." She reprimanded, prompting him to laugh.

"I'll tell you later," Luke whispered to Rory.

Twisting on her stool, Rory watched as Maisy drew a carafe from the cupboard, ready to hold the lemonade she was mid-way through preparing.

"So you used to live in Stars Hollow?" the 10-year-old asked.

"Born and raised," Maisy agreed. Gesturing over her shoulder towards Buddy she explained, "I met this one back in my teens though and he eventually convinced me to move out this way when we bought _Sniffy's Tavern_."

"You own a tavern? Cool!" Rory exclaimed, and Luke found himself pleased that she felt comfortable enough to come out of her shell with Maisy and Buddy, despite having just met them.

"Not just any tavern," Luke countered. " _Sniffy's_ has the best food in Connecticut. You and your mom would kill for their meals."

"As good as yours?"

"Better," he snorted. "By a mile. It's lucky your mom's such a caffeine fiend or she'd probably ditch the diner for _Sniffy's_ the second she found out about it."

Sensing her opening, Maisy butted in, asking, "So Rory, because Lucas here is about as forthcoming with information as the Secret Service, maybe you can tell me a little more about this mother of yours. She wouldn't happen to have stolen my boy's heart now would she?"

"Ah, geez," Luke groaned, burying his head in his hands. "Drilling the kid for information is low, even for you," he muttered.

Rory giggled, her eyes darting between the two of them. "Mom and Luke are boyfriend and girlfriend," she confirmed.

"Well I'll be damned!" Maisy exclaimed theatrically. "You hear that Buddy? Our Lucas has gone and got himself a Gilmore girl."

Buddy smiled, raising one fist triumphantly in his typical quiet manner.

Luke simply shook his head, rolling his eyes at the group. "The way you lot carry on anyone would think I was completely incapable of landing a girlfriend."

"Always knew you had the looks and the smarts kid; I just wasn't so sure about the motivation," Maisy teased. "Mia says this Lorelai is a real livewire."

"She definitely keeps me on my toes," Luke agreed, unable to stop the smile from taking over his features. "And for the record, I was going to tell you about her. I just hadn't seen you."

"Sure, sure, I believe you," Maisy ribbed, her eyebrows raised exaggeratedly.

"Really. Lorelai is…well, she's really something," Luke acknowledged, his smile still firmly in place. His demeanor prompted Maisy to pause what she was doing and it dawned on her that the normally poker-faced, reserved man she knew was nothing short of smitten.

"Well knock me down with a feather. Your mom must be a special lady," she said to Rory, prompting the young girl to smile and nod. Pointing the knife she held in Luke's direction but still addressing Rory, she added, "He gives you any trouble and you come and find me, you got that? Someone's gotta make sure he's treating you girls like a gentleman should."

"I'm sitting right here," Luke grumbled.

"Well take notes. You find a good thing, you do anything you can to hold onto it, you hear me Lucas?"

"Loud and clear," he sighed, rolling his eyes when Rory looked at him and giggled. "I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but I know a good thing when I see it," he pointed out, giving Rory's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "It just so happens I got two Gilmores for the price of one…I'm a lucky guy."

Maisy gave an approving nod, proclaiming, "She's a keeper this one. Much better deal than a set of free steak knives."

"I think so."

"And it sounds like her mother's much better suited than that Rachel broad," she asserted, remembering the disillusioned and hurt Luke she'd come across one too many times to count whenever Rachel skipped town.

"Maisy!" Luke reprimanded, but there was a hint of humor in his tone at her antics.

"Just telling it like it is," she shrugged. "You're going to have to bring this Lorelai out to meet us soon, you know that, right?"

"With you on my case, I wouldn't be able to get out of it even if I wanted to," he teased.

"I mean it. Gotta make sure she's good enough for my Lucas."

"Far too good, if you must know," he said gruffly. "Don't go whispering in her ear that she's punching beneath her weight. Can't have her trading me in for a better model."

"Well you better get your skates on and put a ring on it boy. One surefire way of keeping her around."

His cheeks flushed red and his eyes immediately dropped to the bench top as he murmured an awkward, "geez Maisy. We've only been together a few months."

Resting her elbows on the breakfast bar, Rory listened to the conversation play out and watched on in amusement as Maisy moved about the kitchen and continued to pester Luke.

"When you know, you know," the woman rationalized, but when Buddy shot her a warning look, she sighed, resigned. "Oh fine, I'll cut the kid some slack."

Taking heed of her husband's counsel, Maisy changed the subject, inviting Rory to try her hand at squeezing some lemons. The pre-teen was thrilled to be included in the kitchen activities and happily chattered away on the rare occasion she or Buddy could get a word in edgewise amongst Maisy's incessant babble.

Luke watched on from the breakfast bar, weighing in in the conversation every now and again but content to largely sit and observe. Watching Rory interact with the older couple, it struck him that she fit perfectly in this setting, and he couldn't help but wish he'd been a little more selfish that morning and dragged Lorelai out to the farm too rather than offering her the morning off.

Despite Maisy's teasing, he resolved to bring her by soon.

It was about time his family was introduced.

-o-

"Mom! Mom! Look what we made!" Rory called excitedly, her cheeks flushed as she burst through the front door at a run.

Poking her head out of the kitchen doorway, Lorelai smiled at her daughter's enthusiasm and gasped theatrically as she said, "What did you make? Show me!"

Rory held up the cross proudly and said, "It's for Sir Yusef's grave. Look, it even says R.I.P. Luke showed me how to do it."

"Wow kid, great job! It looks amazing," Lorelai praised, flipping the cross over in her hands and crouching down to give her daughter a hug. "You guys have been busy."

"Yeah. We went to the farm and Luke showed me how all the tools work and I got to play with Molly the dog and meet Maisy and Buddy and make lemonade and then we had lunch and…" she rambled, her words all rolling into one in her haste to get them out as quickly as possible.

"Woah! Molly the dog? And Maisy and _who_? And a real farm? No way!" Lorelai gasped, pretending to be blown away.

"It's true!" Rory exclaimed, her eyes bright and her hair flopping about messily.

"Sounds like quite the adventure. You'll have to give me the play-by-play tonight, sweets," she encouraged, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her daughter's ear and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Yeah, it was so cool! Hey, can I run next door and show Babette and Morey my cross before the funeral?" she asked eagerly.

"Go for it," Lorelai smiled. "But come back quickly! Mommy has barely seen you all day and she's having withdrawals."

Turning on her heel, Rory scampered outside and across the porch, offering Luke a full-watt smile as she passed him on the steps.

"Lorelai?" he called, walking through the front door Rory had left wide open.

"In here babe," she replied, stepping out from the kitchen.

He surprised her by snaking one arm around her waist and pulling her to him roughly, immediately bestowing a passionate kiss upon her.

"Woah, hello to you too handsome!" she exclaimed in shock as they broke apart, her hands coming to rest against his chest. "Not that I'm complaining but what was that for?"

"I just missed you," he said simply, resting his forehead against hers. "Don't ever let me offer you the morning off again."

"Did you two get dropped off at different farms or what? Because Rory apparently had the time of her life and it sounds like your experience might have been more akin to a night at my parents' house."

He snorted, cradling her head in his hands and pecking her lips. "No, it was great. I just wish you had have been there with us."

"Well aren't you just the sweetest," Lorelai cooed. "Where's Luke and what have you done with him?" she teased, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"He's right here. And if it weren't for the 10-year-old that's going to burst back through that front door any minute now, he'd be upstairs showing you just how much he missed you."

"Apparently I should send you off without me more often," she laughed.

"No, never again," he murmured against her lips, shaking his head. He reveled in the sensation of Lorelai's hands running lightly through his hair and held her tightly to him.

"Luke?" she asked a moment later, unsure what had gotten into him.

He pulled back and looked at her with an adoring smile. "I want you to come and meet Maisy and Buddy," he said decisively.

"Maisy? That's the one you told me about that went to school with Mia and your mom, right?"

"Yeah, Buddy's her husband. I thought they'd be at work today but they came home and we hung out, and I don't know…Rory just fell right into step with them. It was like she'd known them for years. Maisy even had her whipping up some lemonade."

"I'm not going to have to rush you to Hartford Memorial to have your stomachs pumped am I?"

He shook his head and chuckled, rubbing his nose against hers in an eskimo kiss. "Come and meet them," he whispered. "I want to show you off."

"Okay," she smiled, pecking a soft kiss to his lips.

"Maybe we can invite Mia too. You're my family. All of you."

"Okay," Lorelai whispered again, her smile wide. "Name the date."

"Sometime soon. I'll have to check when they're free," he breathed, and Lorelai was struck by how hopeful and uncharacteristically boyish he looked in that moment. "You and Rory make me so happy Lorelai," he said truthfully. "So damn happy."

-o-

When Luke returned to the Crap Shack an hour later after heading home to change, the mood was somber to say the least.

The reality of Sir Yusef's death having set in, Rory's good spirits had quickly been replaced by grief at the caterpillar's passing, and she stuck close to her mother's side, in desperate need of comfort.

Pausing in the kitchen doorway, Luke watched on in silence as Lorelai crouched in front of her daughter, whispering words of reassurance and stroking Rory's hair lightly. The 10-year-old's eyes seemed impossibly blue in that moment and Luke ached to ease her pain, despite knowing there was little he could do.

Catching sight of Luke, Lorelai gave Rory's arm a gentle squeeze before encouraging her to collect the floral crown she'd made from her bedroom. Lorelai sighed as she straightened up, offering Luke a weary smile and accepting the soft kiss he pressed against her forehead.

"How's she doing?" he murmured, his eyes fixed on Rory's retreating form.

"She's pretty upset, although I guess it was only a matter of time before the sadness made a comeback. I thought I'd have an upset baby girl on my hands ever since Sir Yusef went legs up but she's been on top of the world last night and most of today thanks to you. Overall, I think she's doing better than could be expected."

He nodded, dropping a container of baked goods onto the counter top.

"Ooh! Did you bring us treats?" she asked excitedly.

"Just some cupcakes," he murmured, brandishing one hand casually. "Can't say I've been to a caterpillar's funeral before so I wasn't sure what the protocol was surrounding wakes."

Lorelai snorted at his words, replying, "If it gets me cake then I'll hold a wake for every damn caterpillar, insect or snake in the backyard."

Opening the container, she peeked inside and gasped, her head whipping around to face him.

"Are they what I think they are?" she whispered urgently under her breath, her eyes wide as they darted between him and Rory's bedroom door.

"Just because they're not loaded with chocolate, doesn't mean you won't like them," he sighed, half anticipating her dissatisfaction.

"No, I mean…are they _butterfly_ cakes?"

Missing the point she was hastily trying to make before Rory came back into the room, he explained easily, "Yeah, I thought you and Rory would like the cream."

"Luke, what event are you attending right now?" she pressed, waiting for the penny to drop.

"A damn caterpillar's funeral," he said gruffly, clearly puzzled by her odd behavior.

"And what does a caterpillar turn into when it _doesn't_ kick the bucket?" she hissed.

Realization striking, Luke's eyes went wide and he immediately covered his mouth with his hand in horror. "Oh my god! What is wrong with me?"

Lorelai couldn't stop the giggle that escaped her upon sighting his panic stricken face.

"I'm a sadist," he murmured absently. "I go to caterpillar funerals and break 10-year-olds' hearts."

Patting him on the arm softly, Lorelai countered, "You're not a sadist babe. Earned yourself a one way ticket straight to hell? Sure. But even I can see your intentions were nothing but good."

"Quick! Do something!" he hissed, desperate to rectify the situation before Rory reappeared.

"Like what?" Lorelai giggled. "There's no way we're throwing them away. I'm hungry!"

"Well, I don't know…fix them!" he stressed, looking over his shoulder anxiously for any sign of Rory.

"Well, I suppose we could just pull off the chunks of cake you've used for the wings and lay them flat instead so it just looks like a cupcake with a layer of cream…" Lorelai proposed, cocking her head to the side as she contemplated the best course of action.

"Yeah, that'll work. Quick! Help me start dismantling," he urged, reaching for a cupcake.

They were only halfway through the container when Rory stepped out of her room, the makeshift flower crown settled atop her head making her look even more innocent and childlike than usual. Catching sight of their hurried movements, she asked curiously, "What are you guys doing?"

"Nothing," Luke answered too quickly, turning to face her and using his body to shield the cupcakes.

Unconvinced, Rory craned her head in an attempt to see what rested on the bench behind him. "If it's nothing, then why is Mom wearing her guilty face?"

"I do not have a guilty face," Lorelai scoffed.

At Rory's arched eyebrow, she lied, "Oh fine! If you must know, Luke baked you some cupcakes and he wanted to surprise you with them later. Now the cat's out of the bag, I might as well show you."

Sighing dramatically, Lorelai drew one of the freshly reconstructed cupcakes from behind her and held it out for Rory's inspection.

Despite her subdued mood, the young girl's face lit up with a brilliant smile.

"You baked those for me? Thanks Luke!" she exclaimed, her look one of appreciation.

"Ah…anytime," he mumbled with an awkward cough, grateful for Lorelai's quick save.

Hearing a knock at the door, Lorelai ushered Rory to the foyer to answer it, leaving Luke to hurriedly fix the remaining cupcakes. He breathed a sigh of relief once they were all safely rearranged and in no way resembled anything from the insect kingdom.

Making his way out into the front yard, Luke joined the small congregation gathered near the mailbox. Babette and Morey had ambled over from next door, and Kirk – who had been at the diner when Rory had broken the sad news to Luke – hadn't missed the opportunity to come and pay his respects, despite having not technically been invited. Moving beneath the canopy of trees, Lorelai stood behind Rory, her hands resting lightly on her shoulders as the 10-year-old thanked everyone profusely for coming.

Giving her daughter's shoulder a gentle squeeze, Lorelai murmured, "Should we get started, sweets?"

Rory nodded, her eyes immediately filling with tears. When she opened her mouth to speak, she found a red hot ball had settled in her throat, preventing her from getting the words out. Distraught, she shook her head before choking out a single sob and burying her face in her mother's side.

Lorelai and Luke shared a concerned glance, Lorelai quickly coming to the realization she would have to come to her daughter's aid and conduct the service.

Clearing her throat, she squeezed her daughter close as she began awkwardly, "Er….dearly, er, beloved. We are gathered here today…"

At Luke's perplexed glance and subtle murmur of, "Isn't that what they say at weddings, not funerals?" she trailed off, giving him a look that clearly said _how the hell would I know?_

"Is there even a precedent for caterpillar funerals?" she hissed back, shrugging, and his equally clueless look encouraged her to proceed.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the life and times of Sir Yusef Legsalot: a purveyor of silk, champion eater and honorary Gilmore family member who was taken far too soon," Lorelai continued solemnly. "Though his time on Earth was brief, Sir Yusef left a mark wherever he went – literally actually, come to think of it – and he touched the hearts of many."

"Yusef came to us just under a week ago and it was clear from day one that he embodied the Gilmore spirit and zest for life. One of his favorite hobbies was kicking back on the couch during movie nights and it was a fairly common occurrence to find him migrating toward the coffee supply whenever the lid was off his enclosure. While he may have been small in stature, his presence was larger than life, and we will feel this loss deeply."

"I'm sure he's smiling down on us from caterpillar heaven with a coffee in one hand and a James Dean film on repeat. May his days be filled with endless feasts and movie marathons. Rest in peace, Sir Yusef," she concluded.

Sniffling softly, Rory wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and murmured shakily, "Th…thanks Mom; that was beautiful."

When the tears continued to leak down the young girl's cheeks silently, Luke held out him arms in invitation. Words may not have been his forte, but he knew the value of a well-timed hug. Hoisting her up into his embrace, he stroked Rory's back softly and whispered murmurings of reassurance into her ear.

"Did you want to say something sweetheart?" Lorelai asked softly, running her hand over Rory's hair.

Blinking away the tears, Rory nodded somberly, twisting slightly in Luke's arms to face the group.

"Maybe…maybe we c-could all say a f-few words," she stammered, struggling to get the sentence out. "Share w-what we liked m-most about S-sir Yusef."

Nodding encouragingly, Lorelai urged Rory to reveal her thoughts, the young girl clinging tightly to Luke as she hiccoughed, "I liked that h-he loved b-books almost as much as I do."

Her voice strengthening slightly, she added, "His f-favorite was _The Hungry Caterpillar_. He loved when I t-took him to the library and read it to him."

Giving her daughter's arm a gentle squeeze, Lorelai then coaxed a few words from Babette and Morey. When it came to Luke's turn, he cleared his throat before saying, "I er…well, he was…er…colorful. You know, lots of er…stripes."

When Rory blinked back at him hopefully, he sighed, racking his brain for something better to say.

"I liked that he was umm…you know, quiet. And, er…I guess his diet was good too. Healthy eater," he nodded, exhaling with relief when Rory seemed to accept his answer with a wobbly smile.

Following Luke's lead, Kirk straightened his back and said seriously, "Luke makes a good point. Sir Yusef's commitment to vegetarianism was admirable. It takes a strong mind to resist a burger with the works, and I think I speak for all of us when I say I commend his self-restraint."

Continuing on, he added, "The things I liked most about Sir Yusef were his kindness and fashion sense. Unlike the Petrewsky twins, he never once called me names for carrying my My Little Pony satchel, which quite frankly, is not only a color sensation but a highly practical fashion accessory. Mother doesn't usually let me fraternize with caterpillars – mainly because they're out in the woods and I'm allergic to anything pine-scented – but if all insects are as friendly as he was, I'd say it's almost worth taking the risk on developing a rash on my privat…"

"Oooookay!" Lorelai interrupted, doing her best to hold back the giggle that threatened to escape her lips. "Thank you for that truly er…insightful account, Kirk. If everyone has said all they wanted to say, I think it's time we put Sir Yusef to rest."

Opening her palm, Rory revealed the matchbox clasped inside, the item having been repurposed as a makeshift coffin. Setting the 10-year-old on her feet, Luke tried not to snort out loud at Lorelai who muttered, "Matches? I thought we were going for burial over cremation."

Bending over the small hole they'd dug in the soil, Rory gently lowered the matchbox containing Sir Yusef, tears once again streaming down her cheeks. Fueled by her mother's steadying hand, she grasped a fistful of dirt and scattered it over the top of the matchbox, patting the top down to form a solid mound.

When she turned her despairing blue eyes on Luke, clearly seeking out the cross they'd made, he stepped forward and crouched down beside her, settling it in the mound of soil. Burying her head in the crook of his shoulder, Rory drew strength from his solid, unwavering presence and whispered, "Rest in peace Sir Yusef. We'll miss you."

-o-

 **Penny for your thoughts? Jks, I've barely got a cent to my name ;)**

 **I was a little worried about writing this chapter as I'm sure many fanfic writers would have fleshed out this story line from the show before me (and have probably done a much better job!) I really wanted to put my own spin on it so have actively tried to stay away from elements that other people have used such as decking Rory out in butterfly wings (even though that is super cute!) Instead, I've used it as an opportunity to enhance/demonstrate Luke and Rory's bond. If nothing else, at least it should be different to any other stories floating around out there! Reviews greatly appreciated :)**


	17. Chapter 17

When Christopher called in late September, red flags immediately went up.

Somewhere between mentioning he'd switched jobs and bought a new motorbike, he announced his acceptance of Rory's birthday party invitation, leaving the 10-year-old positively giddy with excitement.

As Rory vogued her way into the living room 80s-style to express her enthusiasm, Lorelai and Luke shared a concerned glance, ever cautious of Christopher's penchant for over-promising and under-delivering.

After hanging up the phone, the younger Gilmore had spent the better part of the afternoon speculating about the contents of the 'world's best birthday present' her father had promised her as a consolation for having forgotten to get her a gift two years running.

It didn't escape Lorelai's attention that the call had come soon after Luke and Rory's run-in with Emily at the mall, and she couldn't help wondering whether her mother had anything to do with Christopher's sudden and unprecedented interest in visiting his daughter.

When Luke had begrudgingly recounted the incident that had occurred at the mall, Lorelai had seen red. Her first instinct had been to call her mother and give her a piece of her mind, but Luke had pried the receiver from her hands and used that low, soothing tone of his and a series of gentle caresses to talk her down off the cliff.

Damn him and his logic. Damn his distracting hands and lips. Did he honestly think a few strategically placed kisses could dissipate her anger or detract her from her mission?

Okay, maybe they could, she conceded, but where the hell was hot-headed, ranting Luke anyway?

As much as she wanted to unleash her wrath on her mother, deep down, she knew Luke was right. Making a scene would only add fuel to the fire, and Lorelai happened to appreciate the slow burn that came with rarely seeing her parents.

Her firm two-visits-only-per-year policy gave Emily little opportunity to meddle, and Lorelai had no interest in interacting with her parents any more than strictly necessary.

Reasoning that Emily had no knowledge of the upcoming festivities surrounding Rory's birthday – having not extended an invitation to her parents out of fear of them ruining the day – Lorelai concluded that Christopher's promised visit must be purely coincidental. After all, Rory had posted an invitation to him, so it wasn't as if his recent contact had sprung up out of nowhere.

For Rory's sake, Lorelai hoped he followed through on his word and made an appearance, not to mention arrived with a gift in tow as promised. She couldn't bear to see her daughter's heart shattered into a million pieces once again as a result of Christopher's carelessness.

-o-

"52…53…54," Rory counted, carefully placing the last dollar bills on the two stacks of cash in front of her.

She slid one of the piles across the worn diner counter, smiling proudly when Caesar repeated his thanks for what seemed like the millionth time.

Checking her watch, Lorelai took one final sip of coffee before announcing, "Okay, Moneybags, home time. We've got to get you ready for bed."

A look of disappointment flickered across Rory's face, but the 10-year-old nodded obediently nonetheless, grasping the remaining wad of cash and stepping down from her chair by the register.

"Luke, we're off!" Lorelai called, setting her coffee mug down and waiting for him to materialize in the kitchen doorway. He appeared a moment later, drying his hands on a dish towel.

"Geez, is it time already?" He queried.

"Time flies when you're having fun Burger Boy."

He rolled his eyes, but happily stepped forward to accept her proffered kiss goodbye across the counter top.

"I shouldn't be too far behind you. It's quietened down around here now so I think I'll close up early and come by as soon as Caesar and I are done cleaning."

Patting his chest, she nodded her understanding and shot him a warm smile. "Don't take too long."

Picking up her school bag, Rory said her goodbyes and followed Lorelai to the door.

By the time Luke made it to the Crap Shack an hour later, Rory was tucked snugly in bed, the young girl sound asleep after an eventful day. Finding Lorelai settled on the couch watching a cheesy sitcom, he dropped down beside her and patted her leg lightly.

"Hey handsome," she greeted, lowering the volume on the TV so they could talk freely.

"Hey yourself."

"I've been waiting for you _forever_ ," she moaned exaggeratedly.

"I wasn't that long," he countered. "Although I was kind of hoping I'd catch Rory before she passed out."

"No story time tonight," Lorelai said regretfully.

"No story time tonight," Luke agreed, and he was surprised to find how disappointed he was to miss that part of his and Rory's routine.

"I subbed in and we finished off chapter nine. You missed out on some pretty explosive stuff. Heathcliff left Wuthering Heights."

Luke raised his eyebrows and gave a pointed snort, intimating that he couldn't care less if Heathcliff had packed up and gone to Antarctica.

"See, you act like you don't give a rat's, but deep down I know you hate that Catherine's getting hitched to Edgar," Lorelai teased.

"Ugh. The superiority complex on that guy makes me want to sock him in the face," Luke groaned, prompting Lorelai to laugh as he took the bait.

"Oh babe. Who would have thought Butch Danes would ever be caught dead reading Emily Bronte? Safe to say a certain 10-year-old has you wrapped around her little finger."

The practiced look of annoyance he sent her way merely prompted her to smile wider, her eyes sparkling with a teasing glint.

Reaching down to grasp Lorelai's legs and hoist them up onto his lap, he retorted, "Yeah, well. She's lucky she's cute. Why else do you think I keep her crazy mother around?"

He deftly dodged the hand she swatted in his direction, but squeezed the skin above her knee lightly to convey his affection.

"Not a bad little worker either," he added easily, referencing Rory's time in the diner that afternoon.

Since assisting in the diner on the day of Sir Yusef's passing, Rory had frequented the store whenever possible after school, bargaining with her mother and Luke to let her spend at least two afternoons a week working the register and filling salt shakers.

It had taken some convincing to get Lorelai on board with the idea, and she still wasn't entirely comfortable with the situation.

At her frown, Luke ran his finger across her furrowed brow and whispered teasingly, "Be careful; if the wind changes, your face will stay that way."

Sticking out her lower lip petulantly, she tried not to smile when he chastised, "Oh, no you don't. Do not even think about pulling the pout on me. We talked about this."

"But Luuuukkkkeee," she whined.

"Nuh uh. Forget it Gilmore. You can skip right on over the sweet-talking and stick that lower lip firmly where it's supposed to be."

"Dirty!" she smirked, her eyebrows shooting up toward her hair line.

"Ah geez," he sighed, shaking his head.

"Luke…"

"Why can't you let this go?" he interrupted, his eyes imploring.

"Because – like I've told you a hundred times before – it's not right that you should be funding her pocket money. I should be the one paying."

"And like I've told _you_ a hundred times before, I'm not spending a dime. Any money Rory makes comes straight from tips, so my hip pocket isn't impacted in the slightest. I'm getting the good end of the stick because I'm walking away with free labor and some seriously well-stocked salt shakers."

"You mean unpaid sitter duties."

"Lorelai," he growled.

"What? I'm being realistic," she huffed. "There's no reason you should be saddled with babysitting a 10-year-old two afternoons a week. I don't like dumping that on you when there's no reason why she can't be at the inn while I work."

"You're not dumping anything on me. I _like_ having her there and it's not like she's exactly high maintenance. Besides, you're going to have a tough time pulling out now. Never mind how upset Rory will be; be prepared for my staff to stage a riot if you so much as suggest she can't continue to work the register. Rory pulls in more tips in a couple of hours than they do in an entire day, and she splits the takings with them. She's single-handedly sending the morale levels in that place through the roof."

"Luke," she sighed.

"Lorelai," he teased back. Lacing his fingers with hers, he nuzzled her neck and dropped a soft kiss against her skin. "Will you let this go already?"

Catching sight of her grumpy glare, he simply laughed. "If you're going to feign crabbiness, you really need to work on that scowl. I'm not buying it."

She tried to master a more sullen expression, but the slight twitch of her lips told him she was on the verge of laughter.

"Give it up Gilmore. You're talking to the king of cranky."

Narrowing her eyes, she gave his shoulder a soft shove in a show of both disapproval and affection.

"You don't play fair," she griped.

"Says the woman who tries to work that damn pout every chance she gets," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "In my defense, I would argue that logic alone won this debate. I get free labor, my workers score bonus tips, you get a lightened load a few days a week and Rory gets to save for that fancy Oxford whatever-you-call-it dictionary that she's been drooling over. Everybody wins."

"I guess," she agreed begrudgingly. "As long as she's doing all her homework and not getting in the way. But if anything changes, you need to tell me, okay? You promise?"

"Scout's honor," he agreed, lifting her arm and brushing a soft kiss against the inside of her wrist. "Now, tell me about your day…"

-o-

Lorelai's fingers tapped nervously on the arm of the plastic chair, her eyes taking in every detail of her surroundings as she surveyed the school corridor dubiously.

In her experience, waiting to be summoned into a teacher's office never ended well. The activity was inextricably linked in her mind with phrases like, "If you would only apply yourself," "so much potential" and "your parents will be very disappointed."

Disappointed didn't so much as skim the tip of the iceberg when it came to the way her parents felt about her.

But this was about Rory, she reminded herself. And Rory was the epitome of academic achievement and good behavior. That was the very reason why she had been so puzzled when the school had called to arrange a one-on-one meeting, separate to the run-of-the-mill parent-teacher interviews that took place twice per year.

Rory's new teacher, Mrs. Fletcher, had specifically asked that Rory not be present for the encounter, so Lorelai had left her daughter in Luke's capable hands for the afternoon.

Crossing and uncrossing her legs for the umpteenth time, Lorelai was almost grateful to be put out of her misery when the classroom door finally opened and Mrs. Fletcher appeared.

"Mrs. Gilmore?" she called, prompting Lorelai to tug her handbag onto her shoulder and scramble to her feet.

"Er…it's Ms. actually," Lorelai sputtered. "I haven't quite graduated to shoulder pads and running a regime that would make Stalin proud just yet, so I'm afraid the Mrs. Gilmore title is strictly reserved for my mother for now."

The teacher seemed to eye her curiously for a moment, but finally cracked a grin as she stepped backwards to allow Lorelai entry into the room.

"Well come on in, Ms. Gilmore."

"Lorelai," she elaborated with a warm smile as she took the seat Mrs. Fletcher gestured to.

"Lorelai it is. In that case, you can call me Carol. Thank you for coming along today."

Lorelai gave a slight nod and made a conscious effort to still her restless hands. Her gaze fell on the graying older woman as she took a seat behind her desk, the desk top littered with all manner of papers, stickers and stationery. She looked to be in her late fifties, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a loose bun and her kind, green eyes hidden behind glasses.

Lorelai had crossed paths with her multiple times when collecting Rory from school, but given they were only a few weeks into the new school year, she hadn't yet interacted with her beyond a friendly wave or quick hello.

Sensing Lorelai's slight discomfort, Mrs. Fletcher offered a reassuring smile before commencing speaking.

"I'm sure you must be wondering why I've called you in today, so I'll cut right to the chase. Forgive me for dragging you in here but I felt this was something best discussed in a meeting rather than briefly at drop-off or pick-up time.

"As you know, Rory joined my class a few weeks ago with the turn of the new school year. I've been observing her quite closely and noticed something that I'd like to bring to your attention."

Her protective parental instinct immediately rising, Lorelai blurted, "If this is about her reading in the playground, then it's not that she can't socialize with other kids. She gets along fine with them; she's just a quiet kid and likes to read."

It wasn't the first time a new teacher had questioned Rory's penchant for getting absorbed in a novel while her classmates were busy playing tag or sports, but they all eventually came to recognize the young girl's quiet disposition and ability to get along with other students.

Mrs. Fletcher smiled patiently, clasping her hands in front of her on the desk.

"I agree. Rory's socialization skills are more than satisfactory. The other children hold her in high esteem and I can see she has a close friendship with Lane Kim in particular, so I certainly don't have any concerns about her ability to interact with others."

"Oh," Lorelai answered, her cheeks reddening ever so slightly.

"What I wanted to talk to you about was Rory's performance in the classroom. I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you that academically, Rory is performing at a very high level."

Lorelai simply nodded, conscious of not reading too much into the teacher's words again before giving her a chance to make her point.

"I've been teaching for a lot of years and believe me when I say it's not often you see someone of Rory's caliber come along. Not to mention a student with her work ethic and enthusiasm for learning. You might have noticed I've been giving Rory some extension homework."

At Lorelai's slightly puzzled frown, Mrs. Fletcher elaborated, "Extension spelling words. I believe you've been signing off on them the last few weeks?"

"Rory…er, Rory didn't mention she was doing any extra spelling words. I thought she was just completing her usual homework," Lorelai confessed, feeling a little embarrassed. "I mean, I've looked over all her spelling test results but I didn't realize she was being given more words than the other kids."

Rifling through a stack of folders beside her desk, Mrs. Fletcher extracted one with Rory's name handwritten on the front. Drawing some sheets of paper from within the file, she spread them out on the desk for Lorelai's inspection and gestured to the hastily scrawled signature on each.

"That's Luke signature," Lorelai said slowly, her mind working furiously to join the dots. "He's Rory's…I mean, my er…boyfriend. Partner. Gentleman caller. Whatever it is you call them these days."

Mrs. Fletcher's lips quirked up at the sides ever so slightly and she sat back in her chair, smiling with her eyes as she said, "I don't believe I've heard 'gentleman caller' used since about the 1950s but it has a certain ring to it."

Lorelai couldn't help but smile, suddenly feeling more at ease. It was clear Mrs. Fletcher was fairly genial and good-humored, and she wasn't trying to be judgmental of Lorelai's parenting abilities.

"Whether it's you or someone else you know, Rory's done the right thing. I just asked her to get a supervising adult's signature once she'd completed the work. Sorry, I shouldn't have automatically assumed that was you."

"No, that's okay. We've changed up her routine lately so we're still fine-tuning it," Lorelai explained. "Rory used to spend every afternoon with me but now she's doing a couple of afternoons each week at the diner – that's my partner's business – and she knocks over some of her homework then while I'm at work. She's mainly been working on science and math lately when she's with me, so I guess it makes sense that she's covering off the spelling words while she's with Luke."

"Oh, Lucas Danes!" the teacher exclaimed in sudden understanding at the mention of the diner. "Rory has mentioned a 'Luke' during show-and-tell but I never made the connection. He was one of my former students."

"You taught Luke?" Lorelai clarified incredulously.

"And his sister Elizabeth. I've been doing this job for a long time," she laughed. "I live a few towns over but I still run in to him from time to time."

Lorelai smiled before narrowing her eyes conspiratorially and asking, "Got any dirt from his younger days I can pin on him?"

Mrs. Fletcher chuckled appreciatively but shook her head. "In the interests of keeping my job, I'll plead the fifth on that front."

Lorelai scowled in jest.

"He was always a polite, genuine boy. Very loyal to his friends, although I doubt much has changed there. Never as studious as Rory, but then again I don't know many students that are. Sports were more his bag."

"Butch Danes," Lorelai murmured with a knowing smirk. She had a feeling that nickname may not have come until later.

"He's a lovely man, Lorelai. Truly, with both of you on her team, I don't think there's much Rory couldn't do if she put her mind to it."

Lorelai beamed and offered a quiet thank you, allowing the older woman to go on.

"She's done remarkably well with each of the tasks I've set her, and the extension spelling words were another way for me to confirm that my suspicions about her academic abilities were correct."

"Ahhh, so this is the talk about whether she was accidentally switched at birth," Lorelai replied sagely, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

"I think I'd be hard-pressed to argue that case. You only have to take one look at you both to see you're mother and daughter," Mrs. Fletcher laughed. Pausing in thought for a moment, the older woman added kindly, "Rory tells me she would like to go to Harvard."

"She was born practically singing the alma mater," Lorelai confirmed.

Her tone becoming more serious, the teacher surveyed Lorelai through her glasses. "Lorelai, I don't need to tell you she's good enough to make it. That little girl has the intellect and the dedication to go all the way. And from what I can tell, she's certainly got the cheer squad at home."

Lorelai smiled, her heart swelling with pride. "I'm under no illusions that she could change her mind as she gets older. But if that's the dream she decides to follow, we'll do everything we can to get her there."

"That's good to hear. And it's actually what I wanted to talk to you about today. I'm not in the business of recommending other schools over my own, but I believe there will come a point where Rory would be doing herself a disservice by continuing her schooling in Stars Hollow. For now, it certainly suits her needs and I believe it's the best place for her as she builds her confidence. With your permission, I'll continue to offer her extension programs to challenge her mind and ensure she's engaged, and I'll work with her future teachers to make sure they are aware of her talent and extracurricular needs. Down the track though – and I'm very much talking about her senior schooling so it's not an immediate need – I think it might be worthwhile considering moving her to a private education institution in Hartford. There are a number of schools in the area that pride themselves on being stepping stones to Ivy League universities – _Edmonton_ , _Chilton_ , _St. Jude's_ ," she listed, ticking the names off on her fingers.

Lorelai gulped imperceptibly, a feeling of trepidation passing through her at the mention of _St. Jude's_ , her former high school that had so ungraciously turned it back on her upon hearing she was pregnant. She knew _Edmonton_ and _Chilton_ were just as soulless – both schools filled with the Connecticut elite and the price tags to match – and she dreaded the thought of relinquishing her little girl into their folds. Without a sizable trust fund, there was no doubt Rory would be socially ostracized.

"Lorelai?" Mrs. Fletcher called, noticing Lorelai was lost in her thoughts.

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with alarm. "You want me to send her to _St. Jude's_?"

"Well, not necessarily. It's just one option. I'm not saying you need to make a decision anytime soon, but I wanted to at least raise the idea."

"She'll get eaten alive," Lorelai whispered, her voice coming out shakier than expected.

"As I said, now's not the right time to be making a move," Mrs. Fletcher offered gently. "She's only 10 – or should I say 'almost 11' as she's been telling me excitedly this week. This is a long way off and I certainly don't want to push you into doing something you or Rory would be uncomfortable with. If I'm honest though, she'll have a much greater chance of getting accepted to Harvard if she makes the move for her senior years, and I really do want to see her excel. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes," Lorelai responded honestly. _But not at the expense of her self-confidence_.

"Take some time and have a think about what I've said. Those schools certainly aren't the most affordable and they're very selective, but with Rory's grades, I think she has a great shot at being offered a place. If money is a concern we could look into whether scholarships are available. And having a few years up your sleeve allows time to try and pull funds together if needed."

Lorelai nodded mutely, for once, barely able to string a sentence together.

Mrs. Fletcher's piercing green eyes met Lorelai's across the desk. "I realize this is a lot to take in, but remember that this is a good thing Lorelai, and ultimately it's yours and Rory's decision. You've got a clever little girl on your hands and that hasn't just happened by chance. Be proud of that."

-o-

That evening, Lorelai lay tucked against Luke's side, her head buried in the crook of his shoulder and one arm strewn across his torso. After kissing Rory goodnight and retiring to bed, she'd relaxed into Luke's embrace and recounted her meeting with Mrs. Fletcher.

He drew lazy patterns on her upper arm as he processed her words, finally drawing his head back a little to look at her as he murmured, "Well I know it's not ideal, but is it really such a bad thing? I mean, this is a great opportunity for Rory. And if it gives her the best shot at getting into Harvard, that's got to count for something, right?"

Turning her gaze on him, Lorelai narrowed her eyes. "Optimism looks weird on you, babe. What have you done with my grumpy diner guy?"

Luke simply snorted, pulling her tighter against him. "He's still here. He just hates seeing you so worried. That's my job, don't you know?"

She offered up a half grimace, half smile before sighing softly, relishing in the feel of his work-roughened hands trailing through her hair.

"I just…I don't know if I can willingly send her there, knowing what I do about those schools. I took her away from that world because it wasn't the life I wanted for her. And now I'm being told that's what's best for her? God, my mother would have a field day if she knew! What's next? They're going to suggest I enroll her in the CAR and start planning her cotillion?"

Luke kissed her temple, his lips brushing against her skin as he teased, "It's way too early for that. She hasn't even gotten her dining etiquette diploma yet."

Lorelai couldn't help cracking a slight smile, her lips turning up at the edges despite her best efforts to remain sulky.

"While we're on the subject, what the hell is the CAR?" he asked, puzzled.

"Children At Risk of dying of boredom," she quipped with a winged eyebrow.

Not bothering to offer any further detail, Lorelai prattled, "I'm not saying it's a definite no. I'm just saying it's going to take more than just the offer of a Hello Kitty toaster and a strategically placed strawberry Pop-Tart to change my mind about enrolling her in Hartford. Although FYI, both of those things would be taken into serious consideration."

Frowning, he responded, "Well I don't know much about the schools but I can vouch that Mrs. Fletcher is a good teacher and a good person. If she says she thinks this is a good step for helping Rory get to Harvard, then I think we at least need to take her recommendation into account and explore the possibility, even if we decide it's a no."

Lorelai smiled softly, internally appreciating his use of the term 'we'.

"Are the schools really that bad?" he probed, his tone taking on a more serious note. "I mean, if it's just a bunch of snooty rich kids, I'm sure Rory can handle it, especially once she's a bit older. She's got a good head on her shoulders."

Lorelai's silence spoke volumes and it began to dawn on him that her fears ran much deeper than she was letting on. "Lorelai?" he pressed gently.

She buried her cheek against his chest, immediately calmed by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Anxious to feel his skin against hers, she dropped her hand beneath the hem of his t-shirt and inched it higher until her fingers tangled in the light sprinkling of hair across his chest.

"It's not just a bunch of snooty rich kids," she professed quietly, her voice aching with truth.

Stroking her hair softly, Luke remained silent, hopeful that she would continue with what was clearly a sensitive subject for her.

After a moment's pause she added barely audibly, "It's the feeling of constantly needing to live up to expectations but knowing you'll never be good enough. It's the feeling of being surrounded by people who fawn all over you because you're sporting the latest sweater or the new season Vuitton bag, but knowing at your core you're completely and totally alone. It's the feeling of trying desperately to keep your head afloat but knowing that you're worthless because you're so far from society's definition of success that you genuinely believe the world would be better off without you in it."

Stunned by her admission, Luke allowed his hand to come to rest atop hers, the thin cotton of his t-shirt the only barrier as he gave it a gentle squeeze. It wasn't often the beautiful, confident, vivacious Lorelai he knew revealed her vulnerable side, and it killed him to think she had ever thought so little of herself; had ever believed herself to be so worthless she'd considered leaving before her time.

The thought sickened him and he felt his gut twist in compassion and anguish.

"Lorelai, no," he whispered reverently. "That…none of that's true. You've got to know that. You and Rory, you're everything. _Everything_ to me," he choked out helplessly, willing his mouth to find the words to accurately convey the depth of his feelings. "My girl, my beautiful girl," he murmured, lowering his head to hers and feathering light kisses over every inch of skin he could reach.

"Never, never," he whispered urgently, knowing he was making little sense but trying to get his point across just the same.

Lorelai nodded against his chest, a gesture that told him she understood, irrespective of the lone tear that seeped into his shirt.

"Never, never," he reiterated, burying his nose in her curls and inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

"I know," she whispered shakily.

"You're mine."

"Yes."

"Mine," he stressed again, his eyes wide and imploring her to understand; to see how he saw her.

"Yours," she agreed, her eyes pooling with tears.

Luke shifted his position on the bed, desperate to be closer to her and to offer her even just a smidgen of the support she had gone without as a teen. They both rested on their sides, Luke's legs intertwining with Lorelai's and their faces close enough to share the same air. His hand still rested atop hers on his chest; the other entangled in her tresses.

"Tell me," he coaxed, watching as her blue eyes closed and her lashes fanned across her cheeks. "I couldn't be there for you then but I can be now."

"It's all in the past now," she whispered dismissively.

"Tell me."

They both knew it wasn't about whatever long-past memory she chose to recollect, but simply the act of comforting and being comforted, and the intimacy that brought.

Drawing her hand from beneath his shirt, she rested her palm atop his hand and intertwined their fingers. Opening her eyes and holding his steady gaze, she moved their adjoined hands to her stomach, his palm landing flush against her taut skin.

They continued to stare at one another for a few beats before Lorelai began softly, "When I found out I was pregnant with Rory, it was like this light switched on inside of me. I mean, I was petrified, obviously, not to mention an emotional wreck, but even the thought of telling my parents…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "I couldn't give her up Luke."

He nodded, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he wordlessly encouraged her to continue.

"For a while, I didn't tell anybody. Even Christopher. She was my little secret and I guess I thought he or my parents would try to intervene. You know, have her adopted or…"

She left the thought hanging, unable to voice the words.

"It got harder and harder to hide, especially when the morning sickness hit. I'd get a whiff of something in the cafeteria and I'd have to make a run for the bathroom. Sometimes I'd spend a whole hour in there before school heaving over the toilet bowl. There were that many girls with eating disorders at _St. Jude's_ I don't think anyone even batted an eyelid at the sound. My parents thought I was finally getting my act together, using the time to head to the library early and slip in an extra hour of study," she explained, a humorless smile adorning her lips.

"I stopped going to parties and gave up drinking…I had Rory to think of. Not that I knew she was a girl at that point. Eventually, Christopher accused me of avoiding him because I was hardly ever heading out with him. I told him everything. He wanted me to…to g-get rid of her," she choked out, averting her eyes.

Unconsciously, Luke began caressing her skin gently with his thumb, his heart breaking as she drew a ragged breath. Drawing strength from his comfort, she returned her gaze to his.

"It was a while later when my parents found out. Mom couldn't understand why my debutante dress was suddenly too small only a few months after my fitting. Naturally, she and Dad didn't want their friends finding out about how I'd ruined the Gilmore name, so they kept it quiet for a while. At one point there was talk of shipping me off to my Aunt Hope's in France to give birth so the 'problem could be dealt with' away from my parents' social circles. When I made it clear there was no way I was giving her up, they tried convincing me to marry Christopher and have him work at my father's firm. He said he'd go along with it."

Her voice breaking slightly, Lorelai murmured, "She wasn't a problem to me."

Luke nodded understandingly, drawing his free hand from her hair and wiping her few tears with the pads of his thumbs.

Drawing a shaky breath, Lorelai continued on. "Finally, word got out at school. Those first few days were…" she exhaled raggedly, unable to find the right words.

"I came out of economics to find someone had written 'whore' across my locker in bright red marker. I pretended I didn't care and just went about switching my books as normal, but when I opened the locker, it was filled with those free condoms from the family planning clinic. Someone had slipped hundreds of them through the slots and they spilled out all over the floor. Everyone was watching and laughing, like they'd been waiting for me to arrive to see it happen. My friends too, if you can call them that. In that world, your friendships mean nothing unless there's something to be gained by the connection. It's all about status, and Gilmore or not, teenage moms aren't high on the social ladder. I've never been more humiliated in my life."

Luke felt red, hot anger pulsing through him, his hand tightening into a fist as the fury bubbled deep in his gut.

"I would have killed them," he growled, his voice fierce and low. "I would have…"

"Luke, it's okay," Lorelai interrupted softly. "There's nothing you or I can do now."

"It's not okay! " He exploded. "They had no right to treat you like that. I don't care if they were the grandkid of royalty or God himself…I'd strangle the bastards with my bare hands."

"Sssh, it's done now," Lorelai soothed, touched by his concern. She allowed him to draw their adjoined hands away from her stomach and offered him a weak smile when he encircled her waist, drawing her closer to him. "Besides, I didn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they'd gotten to me."

"You didn't? How?" He asked in surprise.

"Well, don't get me wrong. I slunk off to the photography dark room and locked myself inside to cry for a solid hour. Nobody knew I was there so I had some time to pull myself together."

"And then?"

"And then I bit back the only way I could think of. If they wanted to call me a whore then fine, I decided I'd give them something to talk about. I took the hems on my skirts up a few inches that night, got my hands on some trashy heels, a lurid red push-up bra and fishnet stockings – not exactly difficult given it was the 80s – shrunk some of my uniforms in the dryer and slapped on some bright red lipstick. And voila, instant whore!"

Noticing the light that had returned to her eyes, Luke couldn't help but chuckle at her antics.

"You did not," he laughed.

"I did," she affirmed proudly. "Fastest way to get people to move on to the next news item in those circles is to pretend like you don't care. I'm sure I attracted more than a few raised eyebrows those first few days but they soon realized I wasn't an easy target."

"What did your parents say?"

"What do you take me for? A rookie? Clearly I left the house looking respectable and changed on the way."

"Of course, how naive of me," he deadpanned.

"They did find out eventually," she explained gloomily, her tone once again turning serious.

"Oh?"

"The principal called them in."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah, big uh oh."

"Did you explain about the locker incident?"

"Yeah, but the principal didn't care. I believe the exact phrase used was, 'well, if you didn't want that to happen you really shouldn't have gotten pregnant in the first place."

"You're not serious."

"As serious as a heart attack my friend," she replied, looking noticeably deflated.

"They should have been expelled!" Luke fumed.

"Even if I could have proved who did it, you can't expel the heirs to some of Connecticut's biggest fortunes," Lorelai explained bitterly. "Who would fund the new science wing? Or the lap pool? Or the performing arts center? Mind you, my parents' sizable donations didn't stop the principal 'strongly encouraging' them to pull me out of school once my pregnant belly started to show. He claimed that I needed to wear the _St. Jude's_ uniform and _regrettably_ , none of their options accommodated a baby belly."

"They kicked you out? That's blatant discrimination!"

"Oh it was all very politically correct. _St. Jude's_ would never tarnish its name with anything that could land them in a court case. And they knew they had the upper hand. The last thing my parents wanted was to cause a scene and for me to bring more shame on the family name, so I finished up the school year in June and didn't go back after summer break."

Well that's just….that's…" Luke spat, a vein pulsing noticeably in his head as he grappled for the right words.

"Just the way things are," Lorelai sighed. "And it's precisely why I don't want Rory mixed up in that crowd. Not that she would ever fall pregnant at 15, but we don't fit in that world and I don't ever want her to feel like she's not good enough, or less than someone else because she's different or doesn't have a trust fund. I want her to experience real friendships like the one she has with Lane and know what it's like to have a friend who's always got your back. She's perfect just the way she is."

"She is," Luke agreed, leaning forward to brush a soft kiss against her forehead. "And so are you," he murmured, kissing her lips and doing his best to contain his anger.

Drawing back, Lorelai rested her palm against his stubble and began solemnly, "Luke, I need you to know."

He blinked once, offering her a reassuring squeeze as he waited for her to continue.

"I umm…I'm not…I mean, I wasn't…what they said I was."

When he began to shush her, she pressed on regardless.

"No, I need to say this. I need you to know. When I fell pregnant, it wasn't like I had six guys on the go at one time or anything. I was with Chris and Chris alone. Getting pregnant was an accident. A happy one now I look back on it, but there was never any question that Rory was his. I wasn't a whore," she whispered, her cheeks tinging red.

"I know," he soothed, resting his forehead against hers. Placing his hand over her heart, Luke offered her a soft smile and whispered, "I know exactly who you are."

Lorelai swallowed, bestowing him with a watery smile.

"So where was Christopher when all of this was going on? Don't tell me he was in on the locker prank?"

"I never found out who was behind it, but I think it would be safe to say he wasn't involved. I mean, he was there when it happened, but he wasn't laughing."

"He should have helped you!" Luke fumed.

"Yeah, but you've got to remember, if you stick your neck out in those places, your head's the next one on the chopping block. He was just trying to avoid being the next target. He did try to call me later that night to see how I was doing."

"That spineless bastard," he seethed.

"Babe, that's just the way it was. He wasn't – isn't – a bad a guy; he's just a little lacking on the backbone front. As badly as the whole pregnancy thing played out, I can't overlook the fact that we had years of solid friendship before that…one that wasn't fake. I'm not denying he's a crappy dad to Rory, because he is. And I'm the first to admit I was really hurt when he didn't come to my aid. But for all the bad stuff, we also had plenty of good times, and he was always there for me to lean on if I was having trouble at home when we were kids. He wasn't the best friend a girl could ask for, but he's all I had. So sure, I can be angry with him, but I can't hate him."

"Well that makes one of us," Luke muttered.

Lorelai ran her fingertip down the bridge of his nose as she cooed, "Don't be mad, Luke. It's all in the past and look how far we've come. Rory and I have the most amazing friends. We've got a roof over our heads, a whole town full of people that look out for us and a sexy diner man that attends to our every beck and call. What more could we ask for?"

"A free pass to Harvard?"

"I was thinking a never-ending supply of coffee but sure, that works too," she smiled.

"I never would have walked away like he did. I would have stuck by you," he murmured quietly, the timbre of his voice reinforcing the truth of his words.

"I know," Lorelai whispered.

"I wish I had known you then. I wish I could have taken care of you…of both of you," he corrected.

"I know," she repeated, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I wish I'd known you then too."

Looping her arms around his neck she added, "I don't know what to do Luke. I want to give Rory the world, but I'm terrified that putting her into one of those schools could break her."

"You forget. She takes after her mom…that kid can do anything she puts her mind to."

"Smooth talker," Lorelai scoffed. "Let's not forget the money factor. Even if I decide it is okay to enroll her, I've still got to be able to pay for it."

"We'll find a way," Luke assured her. "I'll sell a kidney if I have to."

"I hear a liver's worth more on the black market."

"A liver _and_ a kidney then."

"You, Luke Danes, might just be the perfect man," she laughed, and he found himself smiling back at the warmth and joy reflected in her eyes.

"You know, if you decided to enroll her down the track and she hated it, you could always pull her out," he stated thoughtfully. "I know the upheaval wouldn't be great for her but there's nothing to say it would have to be a permanent arrangement if it didn't work out. You and Rory have the power to choose. And like you say, she has a whole town full of people supporting her, so she wouldn't be alone."

"So you think I should go ahead with it? Because just to be clear, I wasn't kidding about the liver."

"I'm not saying you should definitely do it, but I _am_ saying I don't think you should rule it out just yet. You've got plenty of time to decide, and Rory will probably want to weigh in on the debate down the track too."

"How did you get so smart Danes?"

"Osmosis. That damn kid makes you smarter just by being in her presence," he grunted.

"Been learning her extension spelling words, huh?"

"She made me spell 'Czechoslovakia' the other day," he grimaced. "Seriously, is that not the most confusing name for a country?"

"Well, duh. Why do you think they stopped calling it that?" Lorelai smirked.

Smoothing her hair back with his hands, Luke watched as Lorelai made a poor attempt to stifle her yawn.

"Must be bed time," he murmured, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

"I'm wrecked," Lorelai agreed, snuggling into his side when he flipped onto his back.

Luke reached over to switch off the lamp before tightening his hold on her and allowing his eyelids to flutter closed.

"Hey Luke?" Lorelai murmured sleepily.

"Mmm?"

"Maybe she'll change her mind and become a ballerina and all this worrying will have been for nothing."

"Have you seen her at Miss Patty's?" he croaked, skepticism evident in his tone.

"A librarian then; she'd make a great librarian."

"Mmmhmm," he agreed.

And while Lorelai quickly slipped into a peaceful slumber, Luke laid wide awake, mentally calculating how much profit the diner could possibly turn over in the coming years and wondering what the going rate was for functioning body parts.

Because while Lorelai would never expect him to contribute to Rory's tuition fees, all he could think about were the tens of thousands of dollars they'd need to fund her schooling, and the glaringly obvious fact that unlike her biological father, he didn't have them.

-o-


	18. Chapter 18

It was one of the rare occasions when Lorelai was forced to rise for work before Luke. With Aaron rostered to open the diner, Luke was free to do as he pleased until 11am, so he took the opportunity to stay at the Crap Shack overnight and spend as much of the morning with his girlfriend as possible.

Accustomed to waking early, his body clock had whirred to life at around dawn, but he'd remained in bed and now lay propped up on one elbow, watching Lorelai as she flitted about the room and prepared for the day ahead. Her blouse sat draped over the end of the bed as she waited for her freshly applied deodorant to dry, and she stood in a fitted pencil skirt and bra assessing the mountain of shoes in her wardrobe. As usual, a steady stream of chatter poured from her lips and he found himself only catching every second sentence or so but still following the general gist of her ramblings.

"…so then I said 'Michel, I hate to break it to you but that banana smoothie has more carbs than a fat kid's lunch box.' I swear the color dropped from his face so quickly he almost looked paler than me," she regaled, a giggle escaping her lips.

"You're evil," Luke rebuked, but the curve of his lips told her he found her antics amusing.

"You sure I can't make you something to eat?" he asked once again, unused to sitting idle at this time of the day.

"Sheesh! I really need to teach you how to relax," Lorelai sighed. "Scratch lady of leisure from your list of possible career paths. In fact, do yourself a favor and _stay_ Cujo; enjoy your sleep in. Rory and I will eat at the inn."

"I just feel like I should be doing something," Luke protested.

"You are. You're sitting there providing me with some first-rate eye candy to get me through the day."

"Glad to be of service," he deadpanned.

Moving over to the dresser, Lorelai began rifling through her jewelry box, holding a number of pairs of earrings up to the mirror as she debated whether to go with studs or drop-downs.

"By the way, don't let me forget to pick up some of those cocktail umbrellas for Rory's party. I meant to get them yesterday and it completely slipped my mind," she prattled, finally settling on a pair of pearl studs.

"You know, event planning may not be my forte but I'm pretty sure serving mojitos at an 11-year-old's birthday party is frowned upon," Luke pointed out dryly.

Lorelai simply winked, adding, "Ah well, I was never going to win the PTA popularity vote anyway. Might as well go all out and whip out the tequila shots. Go hard or go home."

"I guess that means I've been designated lemonade duty?" he asked, resigned.

"Yes please babe. Did I mention you're a gem?"

"You'll get my bill," he muttered. "Hey, speaking of the party, I was thinking Rory's going to need a cake, right? If you like, I could make one for her."

Applying a coat of bright red lipstick, Lorelai smacked her lips together before catching his eye in the mirror and answering, "Oh that's nice of you to offer but Sookie's got it covered, thanks. You know Sook; she's been planning this monstrosity for weeks."

"Oh, right. Of course," he nodded, and despite his casual tone, Lorelai couldn't help but notice the slightest hint of ill-disguised disappointment in his voice.

Turning slowly, she cocked her head to the side and eyed him carefully. "What did you have in mind?"

He brushed off her question, suddenly appearing very interested in the bed covers as he picked some lint from the comforter.

"You were going to make her a cake," Lorelai stated, her voice softening as she took in the picture of the seemingly macho yet unbelievably caring man in her bed.

"It's nothing. It was just an idea to help out if you didn't already have something organized," he explained nonchalantly, waving his hand in dismissal.

"You know, I've never known my kid to knock back cake. I'm sure she'd love it if you made her a Luke's special. Two cakes are better than one, right?"

"She has inherited your unhealthy tolerance for sugar," he agreed easily, watching on as she alternated balancing on each leg, slipping on a pair of black heels.

"Why don't you make her a cake for the three of us to share on the night of her birthday?" Lorelai suggested. "We can use Sookie's for the party with all her classmates and save yours for after dinner. Only if it's not any trouble, that is," she added, conscious of not making him feel she was only going along with the idea to placate him.

"You think Rory would go for that?"

"Babe, she's got my blood running through her veins. There aren't many things she wouldn't do for free cake," Lorelai stated pointedly. "Throw in a box of Mallomars and a Tolstoy novel and she'll be yours for life."

"Hmm. Maybe I will," he murmured, giving a subtle nod of his head. "Speaking of gifts, I wanted to run an idea by you."

"Oh, I thought you'd already settled on making her some bookshelves," Lorelai responded offhandedly, busying herself brushing her hair.

"Well, yeah. I mean, that's still the plan but it's not like they're anything special. The stuff I knock together is hardly high-end furniture," he pointed out self-deprecatingly.

"You make beautiful furniture Luke," Lorelai argued. "She's going to love them."

A faint blush tinged his cheeks and he quickly moved the conversation along, eager to have the spotlight off him and his woodwork skills.

"Well in any case, I'd like to get her something to go with them. As long as you're okay with it, that is."

"Hit me."

"It's just…you know how Rory's taken to running through her spelling words with me when she's hanging out at the diner?" he began.

"Did I mention you're a saint for going along with that?" she replied with a smile, her face apologetic.

He gave a subtle shrug to indicate he didn't mind before pressing on.

"She's trying so hard to work up the money to buy that fancy dictionary – the Compact Oxford something or other…the title alone has so many syllables I can never remember the damn name but you know the one I'm talking about."

Lorelai nodded, well aware of Rory's burning desire to own the oh-so-expensive leather-bound edition of the Compact Oxford English Dictionary. Her curiosity piqued, she paused brushing her hair momentarily, the hairbrush dangling limply from her hand.

"And I'm not suggesting I get in the way of that because it's good to teach her the value of money and saving for big purchases," he continued quickly, his words fast turning into a ramble. "Anyway, I was speaking to Andrew and he happened to mention he has that book set in stock and would be willing to split up the two volumes…"

"He just casually happened to mention that, did he? Just clean out of the blue, huh?" Lorelai clarified, a teasing lilt to her voice as she watched Luke struggle to find the right words to plead his case. She could see where this was going.

"Before you say anything, I realize the price tag is a little higher than average and it's honestly not about me trying to dazzle her with an expensive gift," he explained in a rush, holding up his hands in mock surrender as if to prove his sincerity. "It's just that the spelling words have kind of become our thing and with her working in the diner to save up and getting me to read to her at night, it just kind of seemed fitting. That and the fact that my plan B involves stopping at one of the 12 damn porcelain unicorn stores in this town and I'm beginning to get the impression the gift I ran with last year may not have made her list of all-time favorites."

Lorelai smirked, quipping, "Personally, I think the unicorn marionette with the purple horn was refreshingly innovative."

Luke grimaced, his trademark "Ah, geez," expelled with a sigh.

Taking a deep breath, he paused for a few seconds to collect his thoughts before saying, "Look, I know you're wary of Rory being spoiled with expensive gifts given your history with your parents, so if you're not comfortable with the idea, then I'll drop it. But I want you to know it's not about getting her the biggest and showiest gift, or trying to buy her affections. Whether it cost two dollars or two hundred dollars, I'd want to get it for her because it seems like the right gift. I just thought it might be something nice the two of us could share. And if I just get one volume, she still has the other one to work toward so technically, it wouldn't be taking away that sense of achievement she'll have when she saves up enough money."

Taking a moment to process her thoughts, Lorelai ran one hand through her curls and contemplated how best to respond.

If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she hated when people bought Rory expensive gifts – not because her daughter didn't deserve them, but because they were generally a blatant reminder of the elitist, image-driven world she'd fought so hard to shield her from. More often than not, the costly gifts Emily and Richard had bestowed upon Rory since the reconciliation were items that she didn't want or need, but that had been carefully selected to project an image of affluence or simply because Bitty Smallville's cousin's daughter's personal stylist said anyone who was anyone just _had_ to have one.

Casting her eyes over Luke's muscular frame, Lorelai could only shake her head at the marked differences between the man she'd chosen as her partner and the parents she'd run from so many years ago. Without question, she knew the Gilmores would never have even thought to seek her permission on any gift intended for Rory, much less accept an unfavorable decision. But Luke – caring, thoughtful, dependable Luke – had not only taken into account her feelings, but also considered the impact such a gift might have on the strong work ethic she was attempting to instill in her daughter. With him, it wasn't about the price tag so much as sharing something with Rory that would leave her floating on cloud nine. He _got_ her. Got them. And in that moment, Lorelai's heart felt full to the point of bursting.

Unused to Lorelai's uncharacteristic silence, Luke soon felt the seeds of doubt pooling in his stomach. Struggling to find the right words, he finally murmured, "You know what? Forget I said anything. It was a stupid idea."

She studied his face a moment more before carelessly tossing the hairbrush aside and taking off toward him.

Approaching the bed at speed, she allowed her lips to land on his with unprecedented force, her body hovering above his on the mattress. At first, he was taken aback, but when her tongue brushed against his lips insistently and her hands cupped the soft stubble lining his jaw, he quickly found himself responding with vigor.

Breathless, Luke eventually drew back, gasping for air.

Taking in his shocked expression, an impish grin immediately graced Lorelai's features and she held tight to his face and looked him directly in the eye as she said, "Lucas Danes, you might just be the sweetest, most thoughtful guy I know. I wouldn't care if you got her the whole damn library."

-o-

The buzzing of the alarm clock sliced through the early morning stillness, prompting Lorelai to groan and cover her head with her pillow.

"'S'it time already?" Luke mumbled, reaching out to shut off the alarm and squinting into the darkness.

"Would it have killed her to have been born in the afternoon?" Lorelai griped, but despite her protests, she forced herself into a sitting position and slowly swung her legs over the side of the mattress.

Pulling Luke's discarded flannel on over her pajamas for warmth, she splayed one hand over his back and murmured, "Sorry to wake you. Go back to sleep. And don't forget: Presents are happening at seven."

"I'll have the birthday pancakes ready," he replied sleepily, fluffing his pillow into shape and settling down onto it again.

"I knew there was a reason I keep you around," she whispered, squeezing his shoulder affectionately and allowing a smile to grace her lips.

Exiting the bedroom, Lorelai padded down the hall and descended the stairs bound for Rory's room. Pushing the door open silently, she took a moment to study her sleeping daughter, her heart filling with love and pride. Tip-toeing toward the bed, she stroked Rory's hair lightly, whispering "Happy birthday little girl," when Rory finally stirred.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Rory smiled serenely and mumbled, "Am I 11 yet?"

"You sure are sweetheart. You think you could work on slowing that down for me? You're going to be all grown up in no time."

The young girl shifted in the bed, making room for Lorelai to climb in beside her as was their tradition. Slipping underneath the blanket, Lorelai nestled in close to her daughter, her hand seeking out Rory's arm and rubbing it gently.

"The sooner I grow up, the sooner I can go to Harvard," Rory murmured sleepily.

"And leave your poor mama all on her lonesome? I don't think so," Lorelai tutted, tapping her on the nose. "I might have to take a leaf out of Grandma's book and put you under house arrest."

Rory giggled and nuzzled into Lorelai's side, whispering, "You can come with me. I don't want to go without you."

"FYI, I'm gonna need that in writing," Lorelai muttered.

Stifling a yawn, Rory asked hopefully, "So do I look older?"

Scrutinizing her daughter's features in the dim light, Lorelai pretended to ponder the question for a moment, finally answering decisively, "Safe to say Florida will be sending you an application for residency any day now." Drawing her head back further, she narrowed her eyes and added, "In fact, is that what I think it is?"

"What?" Rory asked, panicked.

"Surely not," Lorelai gasped theatrically. "No, wait…could it be? Yep, that's definitely a gray hair. It's all downhill from here kid."

Groaning, Rory bumped her shoulder against Lorelai's and muttered, "You're evil; you know that?"

"That's Mommy's God-given right, I'm afraid. Gotta be some perks to carrying you around inside of me for nine months straight."

"Here we go," Rory groaned.

"The morning sickness, the heartburn…"

"I'm going back to sleep now," Rory threatened.

"The apple cravings, the constant need to pee, the Mom-nesia, the cankles…oh my God, the cankles," she exclaimed dramatically. "It's like someone traded the former site of my ankles for overstuffed sausages."

"Can we save this thrilling conversation for the morning?" Rory begged.

Ignoring her daughter's protests, Lorelai continued, "It's so hard to believe that at exactly this time many moons ago, I was lying in exactly the same position…"

"Oh boy, there's no turning back now," Rory cringed.

"Only I had a huge, fat stomach and did I mention the big, fat ankles? And I was swearing like a sailor."

"On leave," Rory deadpanned, well-versed in the story of her birth.

"On leave, right! And there I was, in labor, and while some have called it the most meaningful experience of your life, to me it was something more akin to…"

"Doing the splits on a crate of dynamite," Rory recited flatly.

"Exactly! And I was screaming and swearing, and being surrounded as I was by a hundred prominent doctors, I just assumed there was an actual use for the cup of ice chips they gave me."

"There wasn't."

"But pelting the nurses sure was fun," Lorelai smirked. Continuing on animatedly, she explained, "So then, Dr Get-your-face-out-of-my-hoo-hah tells me he's seen the head, and of course, the first thing I ask is…"

"Is it human?" Rory interjected.

"Naturally, because hello, _Eraserhead_ anyone?"

"A classic, but nonetheless disturbing," Rory agreed sagely, despite having never actually been allowed to watch the chilling movie.

"And he sighs as if I'm the world's most difficult patient – clearly, he'd never met Emily Gilmore – and says, 'Well it's got too much hair to be E.T. so I think you're in the clear.' So I scream and I grunt and I yell and I swear some more, and I threaten to sing the entire, painstaking discography of Phil Collins to the nursing staff if somebody doesn't get this thing out of me stat, and then…"

"And then there was me!" Rory concluded brightly.

"And then there was you," Lorelai agreed, her voice softening as she looked at her daughter adoringly. "My perfect, sweet, loveable bundle, who was so tiny she could fit in the crook of my arm."

"Were you scared?" Rory asked earnestly, sighing in content at the feel of her mother's fingers trailing through her hair lightly.

"God no. For the first time in my life, everything felt right, because I had you in my arms. You and me? We were always meant to be together, kid. I knew that the second I laid eyes on you. It was just a matter of time before you came to me."

"You sure that wasn't just the Demerol talking?" Rory teased, her eyebrows raised.

"I've never been more sure of anything," Lorelai whispered, for once opting for sincerity over humor. "I love you kid. More than you could ever know."

"Back atcha," Rory agreed sleepily, clutching her mother's arm to her chest and tucking her head beneath Lorelai's chin as she fought to stay awake.

"I'll tell you all about what the Demerol _did_ do tomorrow. Starting with your name. But now? Go to sleep baby girl," Lorelai whispered, her eyes pooling with moisture as she pressed a kiss to Rory's temple.

"Not a baby. Eleven now," Rory mumbled, prompting Lorelai to chuckle softly.

"Always my baby, Rory. You'll always be my baby."

-o-

Lorelai stood back and surveyed her handiwork, a satisfied smile spreading from ear to ear as she took in the myriad of party decorations scattered across the front lawn. She and Luke had spent the better part of an hour stringing hand-crafted bunting back and forth between the porch and the trees, creating a canopy of paper flags that flapped lightly in the fall breeze.

Rory had initially been horrified to hear her mother had torn page after page from a box-set of Austen classics to create the festive garland, but after discovering the books had been relegated to the library's free 'beyond repair' section, she soon fell in love with the upcycled decoration.

Having once again been seduced by the works of Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters in the lead-up to her birthday, Rory had begged Lorelai for a party that reflected the Victorian and Georgian eras she loved reading about so much. As always, Lorelai had delivered in spades, having thought of everything from old-style games, right through to makeshift period costuming.

Twirling a vintage-looking umbrella she'd picked up from the thrift shop, Lorelai nestled it among the cluster of other parasols, making sure they were all open in readiness for the arrival of Rory's party guests.

She gathered up a bag of costumes from the front lawn and marched up the porch steps to see where Luke had disappeared to. As expected, she found him in the kitchen, head bowed as he put the finishing touches on Rory's cake.

"Will you quit fussing already Butch?" she teased, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and peering over his shoulder at his creation. "Honestly, you're worse than Sookie."

Casting a critical glance at the cake, he smoothed one section of icing again before mumbling, "I just want it to be perfect. My damn hands are too big and clumsy for this kind of thing."

"It _is_ perfect," she praised, pressing a light kiss against his shoulder blade. "It looks great hon. Trust me, Rory already loves it."

Sighing, he nodded his head and set the spatula aside. While he'd baked the cake the night before, he'd risen early to assemble and decorate it, having selected a design that reflected Rory's party theme.

He'd stacked a number of round cakes on top of one another, carefully tapering the sides so they resembled a woman's full-length skirt. He'd then wedged a Barbie doll – dressed impeccably by Lorelai – into the center, so the cake looked like one of Rory's book characters had stepped right off the page wearing a voluminous ball gown. It had taken him hours to apply the icing, Luke insisting on piping an intricate swirl pattern the whole way around the dress.

Looking at her watch, Lorelai advised, "Not long now 'til blast-off. You better get your gear on before everyone starts arriving."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?" Luke questioned with a frown, glancing down at his standard flannel-and-jeans ensemble. "Besides, I don't think I've got a clean change of clothes here other than sweats."

"You're just missing a little something," she explained, stepping over to the bag of costumes she'd abandoned and withdrawing a pair of suspenders.

"Nuh-uh. Not happening Gilmore."

"Oh come on Luke, it's just a bit of fun," she coaxed.

"Those are for the kids," he reminded her, shaking his head adamantly.

"You don't want to disappoint Rory on her special day do you?" she pouted, knowing his penchant for giving in to her pint-sized 11-year-old. "C'mon, I picked up a handful of adult-sized ones from the thrift shop especially."

Pausing for a moment and burying his head in one hand, he sighed, "Ah geez. Hand 'em over."

Grinning in triumph, she moved to help him fasten them to the back of his jeans.

"Lose the flannel Burger Boy," she instructed, attempting to peel it off his shoulders when she realized she couldn't clip the suspenders in place with the flannel overhanging his waistband.

"You can't be serious," he growled.

"As serious as a heart attack, my friend," she countered.

He begrudgingly stripped the flannel from his shoulders, rolling his eyes when she added, "On second thought, I'm not sure I want all those school moms seeing my man all ripped and sexy in his t-shirt."

"That's the price you pay, I'm afraid," he shrugged.

Running her hands over his defined biceps territorially, she leaned in to peck him on the lips before muttering, "Don't even think about showing off your baby blues. You're mine, you got that?"

"Somehow, I don't think you're gonna have to fend off the likes of Mrs. Kim," he snorted.

"See, that's where you're wrong. It's always the ones you least suspect that are the dark horses," she said knowingly, offering him a wink and prompting him to shudder at the thought.

Tugging on his hand, Lorelai added, "What do you say we go and find the birthday girl? She should be dolled up in her party outfit by now."

She led him up the stairs toward the bathroom, calling in a singsong voice, "Oh Rory! The carriages of your lady-friends and gentlemen callers will be upon us momentarily. Do tell me you're ready child!"

Mirroring Luke's eye roll, Rory stepped out from the bathroom clad in one of the full-length skirts Lorelai had sewed for each of the girls attending the party to pull on over their clothing. Thanks to her mother, the 11-year-old's hair was fashioned into a neat braid that settled on her shoulder.

"There's Mommy's favorite little oppressed English lady!" Lorelai gushed. "Good choice on the lip gloss kid; the sparkles add a nice touch."

Rory grinned, smoothing her hands over her skirt fastidiously before swaying her body so the skirt swished from side to side.

"Give us a twirl!" Lorelai insisted, laughing and clapping when Rory twisted around in a shaky pirouette before finishing with a curtsy.

Commending her efforts, Lorelai then turned to Luke, adopting a pitiable British accent as she asked, "Might I prevail upon you, good sir, to escort this young lady to the parlor to receive her guests?"

At his blank stare she clarified, "You good to walk her downstairs so she doesn't trip Burger Boy?"

"Got it," he nodded, hurrying forward to assist a predictably clumsy Rory.

It wasn't long before Rory's classmates and a hoard of Stars Hollow townsfolk arrived, the front lawn and porch teeming with people enjoying the birthday festivities.

To Lorelai's delight, the party activities were a hit with the kids, and even the adults seemed to get a kick out of watching Kirk stumble around on all fours as Rory and her classmates – sporting their suspenders and old-style skirts – took it in turns to ride side-saddle on his back and hit croquet balls through the wickets scattered around the yard.

Scaling the porch and casting her gaze out across the lawn, she double checked the carefully selected prizes were ready to be distributed to the game winner, cheering enthusiastically when Lane scored a point.

A moment later, Luke burst through the front door to her left, a tray of hot dogs balanced in one hand and a scowl etched on his face as Sookie followed in hot pursuit.

"Luke! I'm not done with those yet!" Sookie huffed, waving a cook's spoon at him and inadvertently splattering sauce in all directions as she hastened to keep up.

"They're hot dogs Sookie, not a god damn five-star meal," he grumbled, not bothering to slow his pace as he descended the steps and made his way over to the food tables set up beneath the trees.

"All I need is 10 minutes to finish whipping this up and they'll be good to go," she insisted. "You don't know how good they can be with a touch of Michigan sauce and a nice garnish…"

"No garnishes," he barked, ignoring her protests as he settled the tray on the table top. "And for the last time: no Michigan sauce. They're kids; they'll just want plain old ketchup or mustard. If you're hell-bent on making sauce, go and spice up your own dishes and leave mine alone," he growled.

An amused smile adorning her face as she watched the squabble play out, Lorelai barely noticed Mia sidle up beside her until the older woman teased, "Should you really be taking so much pleasure from watching them fight young lady?"

Lorelai couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her as Sookie and Luke continued to fire shots back and forth. "This is better than Jerry Springer."

Mia simply shook her head, any hint of disapproval dispelled by the laughter in her eyes.

"Would now be the right time to mention to Luke that hot dogs weren't exactly a staple in nineteenth-century England? Five bucks says I can get him to pop a vein in his forehead," Lorelai smirked.

"You're terrible," Mia reprimanded half-heartedly. Pausing for a moment to take in Lorelai's frame, she added, "You can't take your eyes off him, can you?"

"What are you on about?" Lorelai snorted.

"A little something called Lucas Danes. You've been staring at him every chance you get," Mia teased.

"I have not!" Lorelai countered indignantly, unable to stop the laughter from spilling from her lips. At Mia's arched brow she conceded, "Okay, maybe a little. But it's not like it's a creepy Ted Bundy stare. A girl's allowed to ogle her guy every now and again, right?"

"Of course. Who am I to judge?" Mia replied, holding her hands up in mock surrender. When Lorelai's eyes once again flitted back toward Luke, she added, "You look downright smitten."

Lorelai scrunched up her nose temporarily before a goofy smile won out, groaning, "Ugh, when did I become one of _those_ girls?"

"Happens to the best of us my dear."

Unable to wipe the smile from her face, Lorelai chanced a glance at Mia and said, "Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure it's all real, you know? To be sure it's not just some weirdly elaborate dream. I mean who would have seen it coming? Lorelai-my-middle-name-is-dysfunctional-Gilmore is in a real, working relationship. I haven't even needed to come up with a ploy to fake my own death yet."

"What can I say? My girl's all grown up," Mia remarked, a genuine smile gracing her lips. "Maybe all you needed was the right man to fall your way."

"Maybe," Lorelai smirked. "I just…I mean, it isn't….it's crazy how right it feels, you know?" Allowing her gaze to land on Luke's back, she added softly, "Rory just adores him and he's so good with her. He'd do anything for us. I never thought we'd have that."

Smiling, Mia extended her arm around Lorelai's shoulders, pulling her close and giving her elbow an affectionate squeeze. "You picked a winner. He's a good man."

Lorelai nodded, her eyes twinkling.

"I'm so happy for you sweetheart. You and Rory really deserve this, and so does Lucas. And I must say, it makes me feel better knowing you've got someone looking out for you. You know how I worry about you girls, especially after you moved out on your own."

"Mia," Lorelai groaned, rolling her eyes and resting her head on the older woman's shoulder. "I've told you a hundred times: we're fine."

"I know, but you're my girls. You're practically family. I'm allowed to fuss," she clucked.

Falling silent, they both watched as Luke bent down to whisper something in Rory's ear, his quarrel with Sookie now long forgotten. The little girl grinned broadly, nodding her head as he clapped her on the shoulder and returned to the food table.

"No sign of Christopher?" Mia asked quietly, still holding Lorelai to her side.

"No. Not so much as a phone call to say he's been held up. I'd get more words out of Harpo Marx."

"She'll be upset," Mia sighed, flicking her head in Rory's direction.

"Yeah, she keeps looking around for him. It's not only the fact he hasn't arrived that sucks. He's also been talking up her birthday present for weeks. I just wish he hadn't gotten her hopes up."

Eyeing her watch, Lorelai added, "The party's been going for almost two hours already. I've been trying to hold off cutting the cake in case he showed but I think I'm gonna have to call it."

"You do whatever you need to sweetheart. You can't wait forever," Mia murmured, rubbing Lorelai's arm reassuringly.

Sighing, Lorelai nodded her head resignedly before extricating herself from Mia's embrace and setting off to gather the candles and lighter.

After the croquet game came to a finish and the prizes were handed out amidst cheers and whistles, the kids all crowded around the cake table. Rory was perched on a chair front and center, her petite frame almost completely obscured by Sookie's sugar-laden monstrosity and her blue eyes alight with excitement.

Leading the group in a particularly rambunctious rendition of happy birthday – complete with "you look like a monkeeeyyyyy, and you smell like one too!" – Lorelai gestured for Rory to blow out the candles and make the first cut.

Holding the knife carefully, the young girl pursed her tongue between her lips as she sliced through the cake.

The second the knife touched the cake board underneath, one of her classmates cried, "Ha! You touched the bottom Rory. Now you have to kiss the closest boy." Lorelai had to use all her restraint to avoid socking the little terror. At Rory's age, she would have jumped at the chance to plant one on an unsuspecting 11-year-old, but her reserved daughter was another kettle of fish entirely.

Shy as always, Rory immediately cast her eyes downward, her cheeks flushing red as the panic set in. Before Lorelai could utter so much as one word, Luke pushed through the crowd, calling, "Comin' through. That's right, move it or lose it. That includes you Kirk."

Arriving at Rory's side, he glanced around before saying, "Sorry boys. I don't care if you're the next prince of England. The only guy getting Gilmore kisses today or any day is me."

Crouching down beside Rory, he puffed out his chest and tapped his cheek in invitation, prompting the little girl to giggle. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek, inciting a wave of cheers and claps from the Stars Hollow townsfolk.

Standing up, he adopted a stern look and pointed his finger at the young boys as he growled, "And don't you forget it."

After helping Sookie to circulate pieces of cake among the party attendees, Lorelai stood back to survey the crowd of people milling around the lawn. She noticed Luke collecting used cups from the porch and hastened to catch up to him as he ventured toward the kitchen. She reached him just as he entered the hall, tugging on the elastic of his suspenders and prompting him to turn his head.

"Where do you think you're going Danes?" she teased, letting go of his suspenders and watching as they flicked back into place with a thump.

"Kitchen," he murmured, acknowledging the stack of cups in his hand. "But I suppose I can make a pit stop," he drawled, his lips curling up at the sides and his spare hand snaking around her waist lightly.

"I heard something about a Gilmore kiss mandate? No kisses for anyone but a certain Danes man?"

"You heard right. Very important decree."

"By order of the king?" she asked brightly, her hands settling against his chest.

"Something like that," he mumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to her mouth.

"Well you don't want to get on the wrong side of the law," she murmured against his lips, proceeding to peck them repeatedly. "Thanks for having Rory's back out there."

"No problem," he answered, shifting his lips to press against the milky white skin of her neck. "You know I wasn't kidding about the whole no kisses for anyone but me thing."

He felt the vibration of her laughter rumbling from her throat before he heard the sound.

"I know," Lorelai whispered, savoring the feel of his warm lips pressed against her flesh. "Mmm. As much as I'm enjoying that, I think we better keep it G-rated," she murmured, giving his chest a gentle push. "Lots of little eyes outside today."

He brushed one last kiss against her skin before reluctantly pulling back, his arm still wrapped around her waist.

"Did I mention these suspenders are really working for me?" Lorelai flirted, fingering the elastic straps.

"Really?" he grunted, glancing down at his outfit critically. "Not that I've met your dad, but from what you've told me about him, they're the sort of thing I imagine he'd wear."

"And just like that, the allure is gone," she grumbled, pulling back from his embrace with a pout. Looking down at the used cups in his hand, Lorelai frowned as she said, "You know you don't need to clean up, right? I can do that."

"I know, but I'd prefer to be doing something useful. I'm not much good at just standing around."

"My action man," she cooed, using her thumb to wipe some residual lipstick from his mouth. "Alright, on your bike mister. I better go and play hostess before the munchkins stage a riot."

"Okay, I'll be the one hanging out wherever Patty isn't," he grimaced. "She's tried to pinch my butt way more than usual today."

"All those years of dance training have made her surprisingly spry," Lorelai laughed, giving his butt a suggestive tap before taking off for the front yard.

The party continued on for some time, Rory unwrapping her birthday gifts and joining some of her classmates in spinning in circles on the lawn, their umbrellas held high above their heads. Warmed by their innocence, the sight brought a smile to Lorelai's face and she chuckled when she saw them flop down on their bellies with dizziness.

Ever the social butterfly, Lorelai worked her way around the crowd, stopping to chat with various parents and townsfolk and stepping in to coordinate more party games as the afternoon wore on.

Noticing some of the snacks required topping up, she collected the empty bowls and retreated to the kitchen, finding Luke hiding from Patty's nimble fingers.

"Relax Burger Boy, it's only me," she laughed as he began to flee out the side door at the sound of incoming steps.

"Ah geez," he groaned, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Don't worry, the party will probably only rage on for another hour or so, so you'll be safe soon."

"Famous last words," he muttered, shaking his head. "Hey, give me a second. I just want to put Rory's present on her bed before she comes inside. I was thinking we could open it when I read to her tonight."

"That's sweet Luke," she smiled, watching as he walked into the bedroom to deposit the gift. "She's going to be over the moon when she opens it. The gorgeous bookshelves you gave her this morning were already above and beyond so she's going to be beside herself when she realizes what's to come."

"Hope so," he smiled, emerging from the room.

Lorelai busied herself emptying a bag of cheese balls into a bowl as Luke placed yet another tray of finger food in the oven and moved to set the timer.

They both turned at the sound of Rory's high-pitched giggle, surprise evident on their faces when they sighted none other than Christopher entering the room, Rory hoisted in his arms.

"You can't be 11 already, surely?" he teased, tugging on her braid. "The Rory I know is supposed to be still in diapers. You're making me feel old!"

Rory shook her head animatedly, her face alight with a luminous smile as she clung to him.

"Seriously kid, I swear you've grown an extra foot taller since I last saw you. There must be something in the water around here. What is that crazy mother of yours feeding you?"

Doing her best to disguise her shock at Christopher's appearance, Lorelai managed to find her voice, rebutting, "Hey! Who you callin' crazy? Takes one to know one."

"She's got us there, kid," Christopher conceded, his signature smile gracing his features. Lowering Rory to her feet, he settled his gaze on Lorelai and held his arms wide, adding, "So you gonna get over here and give me a hug hello or are you planning on staring at me with your jaw on the ground for the next half hour?"

Faltering only for a moment, Lorelai cast the empty chip packet aside and quickly dusted her hands off on her jeans before making her way across the room.

"You came," she stated disbelievingly as he pulled her into a tight hug. Christopher made to drop a peck against her lips in greeting, but Lorelai deftly turned her head, accepting the kiss against her cheek instead.

"Why the tone of surprise Lor? I told you I'd be here."

"Yeah, of course. I just thought something must have come up when the party had been going for a few hours and we hadn't seen you," Lorelai explained, pulling back from his embrace and reintroducing a healthy distance between them. Clearing her throat she added, "Chris, you remember Luke?"

For the first time since entering the room, Chris allowed his gaze to flicker in Luke's direction. Sizing him up, he responded, "Yeah, porch rail guy, right? How could I forget?"

Luke simply nodded in greeting, neither man feeling any great desire to partake in a handshake with the other.

"So how long are you staying for Dad?" Rory piped up, her enthusiasm overflowing. "You're going to sleep here tonight, right? Spend the rest of the day with us?"

"As long as your mom's good with that, kiddo," he responded, looking at Lorelai expectantly and not really providing her with an opportunity to decline. "Can't say no to the birthday girl."

Knowing there was no way she could disappoint her daughter, Lorelai forced a smile, offering Rory a slight nod in confirmation.

"Oh, this is the best birthday ever!" Rory exclaimed, clapping her hands together in glee. "We can watch a movie later and I'll have to show you the new bookshelves Luke put up in my room. He even carved an 'R' for Rory on them."

"He did, huh?" Christopher replied, his eyebrows arched. "Sounds like he's good for a lot more around here than just fixing porch rails."

Oblivious to the statement's undertones, Rory gestured to the cake on the counter, chirping excitedly, "Yeah. He even made me a birthday cake. It took him almost three hours to pipe on the icing for the dress. Isn't it beautiful? We sung happy birthday with the cake Sookie made earlier and we're having Luke's one after dinner."

"Wow kid, you're going to be eating cake for a week."

"Not likely if I'm involved," Lorelai quipped, shooting Luke a knowing smile. "I give it 24 hours max."

"Well you've always had an appetite on par with the Cookie Monster," Christopher laughed. "Palate's about as refined as his too."

Glancing down at Rory, he gave her an affectionate pat on the head before saying, "Why don't you head back and join the party while I finish catching up with your mom? I'll be out in just a minute, okay?"

Nodding dutifully, Rory gave him one last hug before scampering off to rejoin her friends.

"So, no Bozo the clown this year?" Christopher asked casually, his lips edging up at the corners.

"Still behind bars unfortunately but I hear he's up for parole soon," Lorelai replied, almost laughing out loud at the memory of Rory's bungled eight birthday party. Neither Christopher nor Luke had been there but the Gilmore girls had delighted in telling everyone about the evening's police bust.

"Ah well, maybe he can make his grand return next year. It's not a proper Gilmore birthday party unless the cops shut it down. "

"Well, the night's still young. The Toxic Twins are planning on making an appearance later so be ready to join in trashing the place," Lorelai remarked easily.

"If you can sweet talk Tyler into belting out a rendition of 'Walk this Way', I'm in," he shrugged, not noticing Luke's confusion at the reference.

Glancing past Luke and Lorelai and out the window overlooking the festivities in the yard, Christopher added, "Seriously though Lor; great job with the party. The yard looks terrific."

"Thanks. I think we'll all sleep well tonight. It's been a big day decorating and setting up."

"Yeah, you've really outdone yourself. Emily would be proud," he smirked, prompting her to scowl.

Burying his hands in his pockets, Christopher settled his gaze back on Lorelai and said, "So before I head back outside into the sea of miniature people, I was actually hoping to ask you a favor."

From the corner of her eye, Lorelai saw the muscle twitch in Luke's jaw. "What's up Chris?"

"Well…er…I had every intention of stopping to get Rory a birthday gift on my way here but I sort of got tied up…" he trailed off.

When Lorelai didn't respond and continued to look at him expectantly, he added, "I wondered whether you might have a gift that I could give to her. I hate to ask but I might have implied I'd get her something so I'm in a bit of a bind."

Turning her back on him and focusing on emptying a second chip packet into a bowl, she stated tightly, "Sorry Chris. I'm fresh out of gifts. Present time happened this morning."

Undeterred, Christopher pressed on. "There's got to be something. I mean, I'd go out and pick up a gift now but it's too late; it looks like everything closes at midday in this damn town."

"It's Sunday," Lorelai explained sharply, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Well what am I supposed to do then?" he asked, prompting both Luke and Lorelai to mentally come up with a few choice phrases.

Casting the chip packet aside, Lorelai dropped her palms to the counter top and tried to tamper down her anger. Turning back toward him, she stated calmly, "I don't know Chris. What _are_ you going to do? Maybe you should have thought about this a little earlier."

"Aw, c'mon Lor. Don't be like that," he sighed. "I was going to get her something. I just got caught up having a couple of drinks with some old buddies at lunch and time got away from me. You know how it is."

Feeling Luke bristle beside her, Lorelai took a deep breath before saying, "Well what do you want me to do about it Chris? I'm sorry. I gave her all my gifts this morning."

"Do you have a lip gloss or something floating around that you don't need?" he asked hopefully.

Feeling the anger boil in her gut, Lorelai finally snapped. "Really? That's what you're going with? You string her along for a month over the phone promising the world's best birthday present and then it turns out to be a two-dollar lip gloss from the bottom of my handbag? You don't think that might raise suspicions? You know what? I've got a great message for the card: 'Hey Rory, happy birthday. Don't mind the half-used contents or the scratches on the lip gloss container. Next year I might get you the matching body lotion if I can scrounge it from your mom's dresser'."

"Lor…"

"What Chris? What do you want me to say?" she fumed, running one hand through her hair in frustration. "You go and promise her the world and then I'm the one left to clean up the mess when you can't be assed following through. You know, she wouldn't have even cared whether you got her a gift or not if you hadn't made such a big deal of it. She was over the moon just hearing you were coming. Now I'm going to have a broken-hearted 11-year-old sobbing on my shoulder because the father she practically worships got her hopes up and then let her down. It's not fair to her and it's not fair to me."

A tense silence soon blanketed the room, Lorelai's deep breaths the only audible sound. Her words tugged at Luke's heart strings and he couldn't bear the thought of seeing her and Rory upset over Christopher's lack of follow-though.

Drawing his weight from against the counter, Luke allowed his eyes to flicker toward the carefully wrapped dictionary resting atop Rory's bed as he contemplated what to do. The second Lorelai saw him open his mouth to speak, she knew the words that would follow and immediately tried to stop him. He hated to see Rory upset and she knew he'd do anything to prevent it from happening.

"No. Luke, don't even think about it," she warned, shaking her head emphatically.

Christopher appeared confused for a moment, but after turning his attention to Luke, he was able to follow his gaze and soon noticed the wrapped present.

"You _do_ have something Rory hasn't opened yet," Christopher stated, his tone hopeful.

"No, I don't Chris," Lorelai stated firmly. "That's something Luke picked out for her specially. It's not up for grabs."

Frowning in puzzlement, Christopher addressed Luke, stating, "I thought she said you got her the bookshelves."

"I did," Luke grunted, his eyes flicking between Lorelai, Christopher and the gift.

"Babe, no," Lorelai stressed, moving toward Luke and resting her hand on his arm imploringly. "That's your special gift. You have to be the one to give it to her."

Registering the term of endearment and the familiarity of their touch, Christopher narrowed his eyes as the green monster reared its ugly head. "Oh. I see how it is. Not just the resident handyman after all," he growled, the coil of anger in his gut beginning to unfurl.

"That's none of your business Chris," Lorelai retorted evenly, her attention still focused on Luke.

"On the contrary, I'd say that it is given it affects my kid," Christopher countered, rising to his full height.

Lorelai let out a heavy sigh. "We can discuss this later. After the party, okay?"

Taking a step closer to Luke and locking eyes with him, Christopher murmured, "Actually, I'd prefer to discuss it now."

Squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin defiantly, Luke prepared for the onslaught. He rested his hand over Lorelai's protectively, which only served to fuel Christopher's anger further.

"Tell me. You fix porch rails. You build bookshelves. You make cakes. You buy birthday presents. Is there anything you _don't_ do for my daughter?" Christopher seethed.

When Luke refused to take the bait, Christopher pressed on.

"What is it you like so much? Does it make you feel good to swoop in and save the struggling single mother? Give you that Good Samaritan rush? Or can't you have a brat of your own? Got to cash in on someone else's?"

"Rory is not a brat," Luke growled, trying hard to restrain himself given their proximity to a horde of sixth-graders. "Don't say another word…"

"Or what?" Christopher pushed, once again lessening the gap between them and ignoring Lorelai's pleas for him to stop. "Tell me, what will you do? Kick my ass? Because defending her honor sounds an awful lot like something a dad would do, and I've got a newsflash for you: You're not her father. You hear me? No matter how much you pretend to be, you're not her father asshole."

Taking a step closer so they were nose to nose, Luke hissed. "You're damn right I'm not her father. You know how I know? Because unlike you, I'm actually around."

Before the altercation could unfold any further, the sound of footsteps in the hall had the trio turning their attention to the doorway where Rory quickly appeared. Taking in the tense scene in front of her, her eyes widened and she asked cautiously, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Luke and Lorelai assured her, both moving to create more distance between them and Christopher in an attempt to diffuse the situation and set Rory at ease.

"We're just talking Sweets. All good here," Lorelai reiterated, false cheer in her tone. "What are you after birthday girl?"

Still looking skeptical but taking her mother's words at face value, Rory explained, "We've run out of Luke's lemonade. Could we have another pitcher please?"

Clearing his throat, Luke responded, "Sure Squirt. Give me a minute and I'll be right out."

The simple interaction between Luke and Rory was enough to tip Christopher over the edge and as soon as Rory was gone, he grabbed hold of the Barbie in the middle of her cake, yanked it free and threw the figurine across the kitchen, partly demolishing the cake in the process.

Floored by his childish behavior, Lorelai simply gaped in disbelief.

Luke didn't react immediately, his lips pursed as he registered the sorry state of the cake after all his hours of painstaking effort. Unwilling to cause a scene on Rory's special day, he bit his tongue, finally marching into Rory's room and collecting the wrapped dictionary. Returning to the kitchen, he thrust it against Christopher's chest and said bitterly, "Take the damn gift. And for the record, I'm doing this for her, not you, you spineless piece of shit. You might be able to get away with your bullshit now, but one day she's going to realize what a jerk you really are and you can bet your ass I'll be the one that's around to dry her tears."

Striding over to the fridge, he withdrew a fresh pitcher of lemonade, slammed the door shut and called to Lorelai that he'd see her later as he headed for the yard.

When Christopher made to speak, she cut him off with a firm, "Don't."

Ignoring the command, Christopher's chest heaved a few times before he spat, "He's not her father. I am, Lorelai. _Me_."

Shaking her head, she gave him one last cursory glance on her way out the door.

"Well maybe you should start acting like it."

-o-

Lorelai hung up the receiver, swallowing thickly as she tried desperately to will away the plummeting feeling in her stomach.

Luke wasn't picking up.

He hadn't picked up when she she'd called shortly after the altercation with Christopher. He hadn't picked up when she dialed his apartment hurriedly while Rory was in the shower. He hadn't picked up when she'd dashed upstairs after dinner to get hold of him. He sure as hell hadn't picked up the countless other times she'd dialed his number throughout the evening.

The last she'd seen of him was the back-end of his truck barreling down the road as he slipped away from the party, and her heart ached with anguish at the thought of him feeling any kind of hurt or disappointment at the hands of Christopher. She wanted nothing more than to find him and fix the situation, but being Rory's birthday, she could hardly desert her daughter and forego the schedule of activities she had planned for the evening.

Taking a moment to reconstruct her cheerful facade, Lorelai drew her shoulders back and resumed her position beside Rory on the couch. Despite keeping her eyes glued to the screen, her mind was anywhere but on the movie.

To say the atmosphere between her and Christopher was tense was an understatement, and she'd really had to work hard to disguise her anger in front of Rory throughout the evening. At first, Christopher had acted as if the spat had never happened, teasing Lorelai and joking with her as he normally would until her unprecedented stony silence made it clear she was in no mood for his antics.

She hadn't been able to make eye contact with Rory when she'd claimed to have accidentally knocked over the doll cake, ruining Luke's creation. The anger had churned hot and fierce in her stomach at Christopher's willingness to go along with the story, and it took every bit of her will power to refrain from striding across the kitchen and slapping the carefree smile from his face.

But even that paled in comparison to sitting idly by as he presented Rory with the coveted dictionary. More than anything, she loathed that Christopher settled in the spot Rory and Luke shared when reading at night, his arm draped casually around her shoulders as he rested against the bedhead and handed her the carefully wrapped gift.

The simple act felt like an invasion and she wanted to scream, 'G _et out of my house._ G _et out of our lives. Can't you see you're no good for us? You don't belong here. That should be Luke sitting beside her.'_

She had to keep reminding herself that the white lies would save her daughter from the pain of a battered heart on her birthday. As much as she wanted to kick Christopher out on his ass, she knew protecting Rory had to come first. It always did.

Even so, she couldn't bear to see the misdirected adoration and excitement in her daughter's eyes when Rory opened the gift, so when the overwhelming ache in her gut threatened to surface, Lorelai found herself running for the bathroom, violently dry retching over the toilet bowl.

Somehow, she managed to hold herself together when she returned to tuck Rory into bed, oohing and aahing suitably as the 11-year-old excitedly showed her the revered gift. Thankfully, Christopher seemed to have enough sense to vacate the room in her presence, and Lorelai hugged her daughter close, pressing kisses into her hair lovingly as she bid her goodnight.

Emerging from Rory's bedroom and pulling the door shut behind her, she took the stairs two at a time. Pulling a number of items from the linen cupboard, she began to hurry back downstairs, but turned abruptly when she vaguely registered the need to grab a jacket. Despite some glimmers of sunshine still making an appearance during the daytime, fall had brought with it cool evening temperatures.

After descending the stairs and finding Christopher seated in the lounge room, she dumped a pillow and blanket on the end of the couch and hastily set about pulling on her hoodie.

"Woah, someone's in a hurry," Christopher remarked, raising his eyebrows. "You got somewhere to be?"

Zipping up the jacket, she replied in a no-nonsense tone, "Yeah actually, I do. I'm heading out to find Luke, the guy you were a complete jackass to. Ring any bells? Rory's down for the night so she shouldn't need anything, but on the off-chance she wakes and I'm not home, you're on duty, okay? You think you can handle that for one night?"

"Lor…can we talk?" Christopher sighed, running a hand through his hair.

When she merely stared back at him and arched one eyebrow, he added, "C'mon don't be like that."

Waggling his index finger in her direction and pulling a silly face, he cajoled teasingly, "Look at me Lorelai. We both know you can't help laughing when I do this."

When Lorelai stood staunchly with her arms folded, he continued moving his finger and grinning as he said, "It's only a matter of time before you crack. Remember all those arguments we had as kids? You never could stay angry with me for long. C'mon, show me that smile."

"Newsflash Chris: we're not six years old anymore," she said coolly, her eyes flashing with anger. Gesturing toward the bed linen, she added, "Couch is yours for the night. There's an extra blanket in the hall cupboard upstairs if you need it but I think one should be enough."

"Aw Lor, are you seriously getting upset over this one little thing? I'm sorry, okay? I messed up. I promise I'll make up for it next time. Get her something way more fun than a damn dictionary. Can you just sit down for a minute?" He pleaded. "Talk to me."

"Honestly?" she bit back. "You really want to talk? Because currently, my vocabulary is limited to a few choice phrases when it comes to you, so I think it's best for both of us if you give me some space.

"Lor…"

"Enough Chris," she snapped. "I don't have the energy to deal with you right now. You're lucky I'm even letting you crash here, and believe me when I say I'm only doing that for Rory's sake. I'm still cleaning up the mess you made today so spare me the bullshit. God knows I'll never keep you from Rory, but after the crap you pulled, forgive me if I'm a little less than welcoming. If there's any part of you that genuinely is sorry, then do me solid and keep an eye on her until I get back."

Recognizing a lost cause when he saw one, Christopher simply nodded, his lips set in a hard line.

Giving him one last glance, she took off for the Jeep and added, "Don't wait up."

When Lorelai pulled to a stop in the town square, she registered the lights were off in Luke's apartment and the diner had already closed for the night. It was Sunday after all.

Undeterred, she felt blindly above the door frame for the spare key, a sense of relief flooding through her when her fingers closed around the cold metal. She tiptoed quietly up the stairs, not because she feared waking Luke but chiefly because the stillness of the night seemed to demand it.

When she entered his apartment, it took a while for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Squinting in the direction of his bed, she could vaguely make out his outline as he lay on his side beneath the blanket. Removing her hoodie and partially feeling her way across the room, she drew back the covers and squeezed into the small space beside him, snuggling up against his muscular back.

"Hey," she whispered, grateful for his body heat after her brief stint in the chilly outside air.

"Lorelai?" he asked groggily, his voice hoarse with sleep.

"No, your other girlfriend."

Rolling over to face her, he blinked several times before quipping dryly, "Believe me, with the time and energy you command, one of you is more than enough."

She grinned, wedging her chilly feet between his legs in an attempt to warm them.

"Geez! Your feet are like blocks of ice!" he exclaimed, but he made no move to shift away.

"Forgot to grab shoes on my way out the door," she explained simply, basking in the feeling of his hot skin against hers.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he growled, but he carefully took her hands between his to warm them.

Smiling lightly at his antics, she soon sobered up in lieu of the events that had unfolded at Rory's party.

"I've been trying to call you," she whispered, her eyes locking with his. "I was beginning to wonder whether you were avoiding me."

"You called the apartment?" he asked, his brow furrowed. At her nod, he propped himself up on one elbow and craned his head in the direction of the answering machine. Sighting the blinking light signaling multiple new messages he added, "Shit, sorry. I've been down in the diner most of the night so I didn't hear it ring. Figured I might as well give Caesar a hand since I was here. Beat sitting around."

Lorelai nodded in understanding, sighing as she murmured, "I'm sorry about today."

"Don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault."

Withdrawing one hand from between his, she reached up to cup his cheek and said earnestly, "Even so, I'm sorry Christopher wrecked your cake. And I'm sorry about the book. I'm sorry he was such a jerk to you."

"He is kind of a jerk, isn't he?" Luke mumbled, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

"The worst. The jerkiest jerk that ever did…er….jerk," Lorelai pronounced with a definitive nod and a half smile, the obligatory 'dirty' whispered a moment later.

Becoming serious again, she trailed her fingers through his hair lightly and vowed, "I'm going to fix this Luke. I don't know how but I'll figure something out. It's not fair that he gets all the credit for your gift. Rory should know it was you."

"It's done now," he murmured, his voice low. "No point upsetting her. It will only put a damper on her birthday."

"I hated watching him give it to her," she whispered, her eyes prickling with hot tears. "I just…couldn't, you know? It should have been you there with us tonight."

"I know," Luke breathed, smoothing her hair back. "I'm sorry I left. I just figured it was better I go for Rory's sake rather than letting World War III unfold. I made sure I said goodbye to her before I went."

She nodded, sniffling once as she tried to prevent any tears from falling.

"I tried to fix the cake," she murmured weakly.

"You did?" he asked, touched by her thoughtfulness.

"I couldn't salvage it all and you know me, I'm useless when it comes to that stuff, but I tried to stick it back together. The dress doesn't look anywhere near as perfect as you had it and the pattern's a bit smooshed, but it's in one piece. I told Rory I accidentally knocked it over."

"You didn't eat it tonight?'

"No. Rory and I wanted to wait until you could be there with us," Lorelai explained. "It didn't feel right blowing out the candles without you."

Burying both hands in her curls, Luke leaned forward to press a tender kiss to her lips and whispered, "Thank you."

Treasuring being connected to him, Lorelai rested her palms against his chest and allowed herself to get lost in the feeling of his lips against hers, their kisses gentle and full of affection.

Drawing back, she asked quietly, "We're okay?"

"We're okay," he confirmed, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

They lay staring at each other in silence for a few minutes, soft caresses conveying their adoration for one another.

Finally, the rumble of Luke's voice pierced the night air as he raised the question he hated to ask and already knew the answer to.

"He's there with her now?"

"Yeah," Lorelai croaked, her throat constricting as she spoke. "I wanted to come earlier. The second she was in bed I was on my way out the door. I left Chris on the couch and told him he was on babysitting duty."

"He wouldn't take off with her, would he?" Luke asked, suddenly panicked.

"No chance of that happening," Lorelai laughed mirthlessly, a wry smile forming on her lips. "He's made it pretty clear over the years that parenting isn't his gig. I daresay he'll already be itching to return to his bachelor lifestyle."

Luke nodded, recognizing the truth to her words and feeling his muscles relax slightly.

"I guess you can't stay?" he clarified disappointedly.

"For a little while."

"Mmmhmm," he murmured as he drew her closer to him, intent on making the most of their time together.

After a few blissful minutes spent wrapped in his embrace, Lorelai noticed Luke was lost in thought, his grip on her tightening as he processed whatever was swirling around his mind.

"What's going on in there babe?" she inquired, tapping his temple lightly and shaking him from his reverie.

He seemed to hesitate but finally answered when she looked up at him with imploring blue eyes.

"I hate that guy," he muttered, shaking his head.

Sensing a mini rant coming on, Lorelai remained quiet, allowing him to continue.

"I hate his smugness and his carelessness and his sense of entitlement. I hate that he just breezes in whenever he feels like it and makes a mess of things. I hate that he has a history with you and that he looks at you like he owns you. I _really_ hate that he reduces Rory to tears and leaves you to pick up the pieces time and time again."

His voice having gone up several decibels, he took a few deep breaths before plowing on.

"I hate that we have to lie to her to protect her from seeing what an ass he really is. I hate that he doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself. I hate that he's her Dad. Most of all, I hate that…" but he trailed off, his voice disappearing as he swallowed.

"What Luke?" she pressed gently, her hand rubbing his arm soothingly.

Luke simply shook his head, ashamed of the thought that crossed his mind.

"Hon, whatever it is, you can tell me."

He shook his head once again, murmuring, "It's horrible. _I'm_ horrible for thinking it."

"Tell me," she pleaded softly, lifting his chin with her finger so his eyes met hers.

He paused for a moment, drawing a steadying breath before finally rasping, "I…I hate that there's a part of me that's grateful he's so goddamn pathetic, because if he wasn't, you'd never be with me."

"Oh Luke," she whispered, watching as he lowered his eyes ashamedly. "Hon, that's not true."

"Isn't it? Can you honestly say you wouldn't be with him if he was actually there for you and Rory?"

"Luke, I…"

"If he showed up, put you both first and tried to make a life with you? I'm not blind. I know you have a history. He knows you well and he knows how to make you laugh. He comes from the same background. Hell, he can even keep up with all your movie and celebrity references and here I am still confused about who the damn Backroad Boys are."

"Backstreet," she mumbled under her breath, but when he raised one eyebrow questioningly she just waved her hand dismissively as if to indicate the irrelevance.

Casting the bed covers aside, she shifted so she was sitting upright and looking down at him. Adopting an indignant tone, she said sternly, "Lucas Danes, look at me."

Taken aback by her command, he did as instructed, awaiting her next move.

"Let me spell this out for you so there are no doubts in your mind. I do not, nor will I ever, want to be with Christopher. Yes, we've known each other a long time. Yes, we grew up together. Yes, we can have a laugh together, but that doesn't mean we're right for each other. Even if he suddenly matured overnight and decided he wanted to play a big part in mine and Rory's lives, you're forgetting that I didn't choose you because of all the things he isn't; I chose you because of all the things _you_ are.

"Tell me, do you think Christopher can make the perfect cup of coffee? Do you think he would continue to try forcing 17 kinds of rabbit food down my throat after years of open junk food addiction? Do you think he would be kind enough to carry Kirk home to his mother after a public fear-biting rampage, when the rest of the town is terrified of contracting rabies?" she demanded hotly.

Not pausing for an answer, she added, "Would he ever spend a week making Rory nothing but mashed potatoes because it's all she can stomach? Or the better part of three hours piping icing onto her birthday cake? Would he conveniently add up the check incorrectly for almost every diner meal to ease the financial burden on a single mom? And yes — for the record — I know about that. Has he ever had to shoulder the burden of losing both his parents and paying off ridiculous levels of debt, before creating a successful life and career for himself? Does he have that spot right there in the crook of his arm that fits me perfectly?" she raved, gesturing wildly at his right side.

"Can he talk me down off the cliff when I'm freaking out over something unimportant? Would he be happy to spend the rest of his days in this tiny little town full of crazies? Would he let me steal his flannel shirt at bed time and claim it as my own? Hell, does he even _own_ a flannel shirt?" she rambled, throwing her hands up in the air.

When Luke simply gaped at her in shock, Lorelai slowed, her voice calm and deliberate.

"What I'm trying to say is that I chose you for a million reasons, none of which have anything to do with Christopher or the goddamn Backstreet Boys — who I happen to hate by the way. So no, I wouldn't be with him under any circumstance and I have no problem making that known to him. I chose you all those months ago and I'll continue to choose you for as long as you can ply me with my daily caffeine hit. Do I make myself clear Danes?"

"Crystal," he croaked, his eyes wide.

Staring down at him for a moment longer, Lorelai flipped her hair over her shoulder and responded, "Good. Now do me a favor and lift your arm a little so I can snuggle into my spot. All this ass-kicking is exhausting."

-o-

The next day, Rory sat on the porch steps, her chin resting in her hands as she reflected on the events of the weekend. Christopher had not long left to return to Chicago, and the mid-morning sunshine did little to lift her dejected spirits.

Despite needing to get to school — Lorelai having talked her into taking the morning off to make the most of the rare time with her father — Rory couldn't bring herself to rise to her feet just yet, so she simply sat in silence, scuffing her shoes absentmindedly atop the weathered wood.

When Lorelai slipped down beside her 10 minutes later and wordlessly settled her arm around Rory's shoulders, the 11-year-old found herself grateful for the absence of prodding or questioning. It wasn't often her mother refrained from chattering incessantly, yet on this occasion, she seemed to grasp Rory's need for quiet contemplation.

Resting her head against Lorelai's shoulder, Rory toyed distractedly with the beading on her mother's shirt, her fingers tracing over the raised patterns.

It wasn't as if breakfast with her father had been unenjoyable. He was amicable as always, although perhaps a little disappointed that Lorelai had elected not to join them at Weston's. Even though she had the morning off work and Christopher had done everything in his power to talk her into coming along, Lorelai had insisted it was best she didn't, encouraging the duo to instead spend some quality one-on-one time together. As much as Rory loved her mom being around, the thought of having Christopher's focus solely on her for once was undeniably appealing. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see his attention was drawn to Lorelai whenever she was in his presence.

Rory got the impression he was simply killing time when it was just the two of them, and that he wasn't particularly interested in hearing about her week or what she'd learnt at school, so she didn't bother telling him about the extension words she'd been practicing. That was something best shared with Luke.

After a further 10 minutes spent deep in thought, Rory drew back from her mother's shoulder, preparing to raise the subject that had been plaguing her for most of the morning. Her eyes settling on her feet, she kept her head down as she broke the silence and murmured quietly, "The dictionary wasn't from him, was it?"

To say Lorelai was shocked was an understatement, and the surprise in her eyes was enough to confirm Rory's suspicions.

"Sweetie…" Lorelai began, but Rory cut her off with a subtle shake of her head.

"It's okay. You don't have to cover for him. I get it."

"Babe, it isn't…I mean, he…"

Trailing off, Lorelai sighed. Chancing a glance at her daughter, she confirmed softly, "It wasn't from him."

Her eyes still downcast, Rory nodded once again and uttered, "You or Luke?"

"Luke."

Rory seemed to ponder the idea for a moment, her legs stretching down to trail in the soft grass at the bottom of the steps.

"To go with the bookshelves," she said slowly, her mind connecting the dots.

"Yeah. He was saving it to give to you before bed."

"Huh," Rory murmured. Pausing for a moment to fidget with the bracelet on her wrist, she added quietly, "I think…I think next year, maybe it's best if I don't send Dad an invitation to my party."

"Oh sweetie," Lorelai sighed, her heart aching for her daughter. She'd known it was only a matter of time before Rory started to see Christopher's flaws, but it killed her to watch her daughter's innocence falling away piece by piece as the realization hit.

"I'm not so sure I want to see him anymore. He messes everything up," Rory muttered with a frown. "I was so excited when he told me he was coming. And when he got here and said he was staying the night, I wanted to tell everybody."

"You didn't have fun last night?" Lorelai queried.

"No, I did. But it's not the same as with you and Luke. I really missed him last night. And, I don't know…Dad's great but sometimes I think he couldn't care less whether I was in the room or not."

"Oh honey, that's not true," Lorelai soothed, her voice soft.

"Isn't it?"

"Your Dad loves you. He might not be the best at showing it sometimes, but trust me kid, in his own way, he does love you."

"Just not enough," Rory breathed.

Before Lorelai could utter so much as one word, Rory added, "Luke left because of Dad, didn't he? Not because the diner was busy. Did Dad take the present from him?"

"Luke offered it," Lorelai responded honestly.

"Of course he did," Rory whispered under her breath with a sigh. "You know, I always wished you and Dad would get back together," she admitted, her cheeks flushing pink. "Every year when I blew out the candles, that's what I wished for."

"I thought you were begging for a Blondie reunion tour," Lorelai replied, her lips tugging up at the edges.

"That too," Rory conceded, allowing a smile to adorn her face briefly. "I'm really glad now that it didn't happen. You and Dad, I mean. Blondie would be cool."

"It wasn't meant to be babe."

"I know," she agreed, exhaling resignedly.

"So what did you wish for this year?"

"I'd tell you but then I'd have to kill you," Rory grinned, shaking her head.

"Top secret, huh?"

"Actually, there's no way it can come true anyway, so it probably doesn't matter if I jinx it."

At Lorelai's inquisitive stare, she explained sheepishly, "I wished Luke was my real dad."

"Oh babe," Lorelai sighed, giving Rory's hand a gentle squeeze. "There's no going back in time and changing that one. And I don't know that I would anyway. You and I are the people we are because of where we started and what we've been through together. And besides, Luke loves you regardless of whether you're related by blood. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Rory agreed with a soft smile. "He told me."

"He did?" Lorelai asked, surprised at the revelation knowing Luke's determination to uphold his gruff façade. They hadn't even exchanged those three important words themselves.

"Yeah, after he took me shopping for school shoes and we ran into Grandma. He said he loved me like I was his kid."

Lorelai swallowed, suddenly finding her airway too choked up to speak. Clearing her throat, she located her voice and added, "Well call me biased, but what's not to love, right? You're only the greatest kid in the world."

"Mooommmm," Rory groaned, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

"What? It's true!" Lorelai shrugged with a smirk.

Reaching over to take Rory's hand in hers, Lorelai became serious, her voice lowering to a soft hum.

"Sweetie, I know that things didn't turn out exactly how you'd hoped they might this weekend. I know your dad let you down and you're probably feeling hurt right now, and you totally have a right to be. If you don't want to invite him to your birthday party next year, I'll support your decision. But do yourself a favor and don't cut him out of your life completely. At least not now. Making any big decisions when you're feeling upset and angry isn't always the best choice and I think this one is something best saved for when you're all grown up and really know what you want. He's not perfect but he does mean well. I really do believe that. I'm not saying this for his sake in any way; I just want to make sure that you're doing what's best for you. It's really important to me that regardless of the type of relationship you decide to have with him, you don't look back one day and have regrets."

"You cut Grandpa out of your life," Rory whispered, her tone pensive rather than accusatory. "And Grandma."

Lorelai sighed heavily, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "That wasn't a decision I took lightly Sweets. I was still a kid, but at that point, I had you to consider and I knew bringing you up in that environment wasn't what I wanted for you. What I did…" Lorelai trailed off, shaking her head wryly. "I honestly believe it was the right decision, but that doesn't mean it was easy. I caused a lot of hurt Rory, and that's something I'll always have to live with. There's barely a day that goes by where I don't wish there could had have been another way."

Processing her mother's words, Rory leaned into Lorelai's svelte frame and wrapped her arms around her waist. It was rare for Lorelai to speak about that period in her life, and she usually brushed it aside, informing Rory that is was a story best saved for when she was 'older'.

"Thank you for bringing me here," Rory whispered, her face pressed into her mother's shoulder. "I think it was really brave."

Feeling the tears begin to well in her eyes, Lorelai refrained from speaking, opting instead to tighten her hold on her daughter and press a kiss into her hair.

"I love you, kid."

"I love you too, Mom."

Drawing back from the embrace after some time, Rory looked up at her mother, her blues eyes wide and hopeful as she asked, "Could we go and see Luke before I go back to school? I want to thank him for my present."

-o-


	19. Chapter 19

It was time.

After stripping the sheets from his mattress like any other laundry day, it occurred to Luke that perhaps his trusty single bed's days were numbered. It had served him well over the years, prolonged use having molded the mattress perfectly to his body.

However, with Lorelai in the picture, suddenly the solo bedding arrangement didn't seem so fitting anymore. In a way, he liked that the small size forced them to squeeze in tight. While Lorelai typically claimed as much prime real estate as she could muster on the odd occasion she was in his bed, the narrow mattress ensured she ultimately ended up right where he liked her best — curled up in his arms.

The minimal space certainly hadn't put a stop to any of their extracurricular activities, so he had no cause for complaints. All in all though, he figured Lorelai would want something a little more spacious if given the option. He'd made room for her in his life, so why not his apartment?

While Luke considered himself far from a rocket scientist, he'd been around the block long enough to know that the choice of mattress would be best left to Lorelai. _Happy wife, happy life_ , he mused. _Or in this case happy girlfriend_. Yes, he'd go along with whatever she preferred.

That logic was precisely how he found himself being dragged into not one, but four bedding stores the following Friday, and silently berating himself for not having the foresight to go alone and have the whole ordeal done and dusted in 10 minutes.

"This is crazy. You realize they stock the exact same brands as the last place, right?" he groaned, begrudgingly following Lorelai through the doors of a large furniture warehouse.

"Yes but this one has like 1,000 per cent off so it's worthwhile checking out the sales," she countered, tugging him along insistently. "And besides, they're not all the same models. You're going to have this mattress for at least a decade Luke — longer, knowing you — so we've got to make sure you get something you like."

"I liked the first one!" he exclaimed exasperatedly, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "And the one after that, and the one with the built in contoury thing, and the one after that, and the one…"

Lorelai huffed pointedly, cutting off his diatribe as they pulled to a stop among the rows of beds.

"Babe, we've been over this a hundred times. They only had full sizes of those lines in stock and you're much better off investing in a queen," she explained with all the patience of a two-year-old in an accountant's office. "We could order one in but you've already pulled apart your current bed so it's silly to wait days or even weeks for it to arrive."

"But I don't _need_ a queen," he argued. "My apartment is barely big enough to swing a cat in so there's no point taking up unnecessary space."

Before he could continue, a salesman appeared at their side, interrupting the conversation with a quick greeting and a warm smile.

"Can I help you with anything today?" he asked politely, seemingly ignoring their squabble. Luke figured bickering couples were probably a regular occurrence in his line of work.

Immediately in buyer mode, Lorelai smiled sweetly and replied, "I was just telling my boyfriend here that a queen mattress would be a much better choice than a full. Would you care to weigh in and tell him he's being a lunatic opting for the smaller size?"

The man threw an apologetic smile in Luke's direction, before conceding. "Well I don't know about lunatic, but generally speaking, I'd always recommend at least a queen size for a couple."

"Huh! Two against one," Lorelai gloated, bumping her shoulder against Luke's teasingly. "See? It's like I've been telling you all this time; size matters Burger Boy," she added with a devilish wink, prompting him to flush at the undertone.

"Well clearly he's going to say bigger is better," Luke muttered. "I mean, the queens have the higher price tag so it's a better sale. No offence," he added hastily, directing his gaze to the salesman who simply laughed at their antics.

"Are you saying bigger isn't better?" she goaded, her eyebrow arched flirtatiously and her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"I…Lorelai!" he huffed exasperatedly.

"Say that again. I don't think I caught all the irritation the first time," she quipped, tugging on Luke's arm and gesturing for the salesman to walk ahead of them toward a selection of mattresses ahead.

When they came to a stop, the salesperson eyed Luke and said, "For what it's worth, the full sizes seem to be phasing out a little more these days. The demand isn't as strong for them so some manufacturers have stopped making them completely. It does limit your choices to some extent. That's not a problem if you see something you like, but it's also worthwhile keeping in mind you also won't have as wide of a selection to choose from in terms of frames and bedding."

"Great, maybe that will speed up the second part of the shopping trip," Luke deadpanned gruffly, prompting the salesman to laugh once again.

"How about I let you both have a wander? I'll pop back in a few minutes to see how you're going and I'd be happy to answer any questions about the floor stock."

Lorelai nodded appreciatively and immediately set about walking the aisles, testing the pillow-tops for softness and skim-reading each of the tags. She laid down on a particularly cushioned one, tapping the space beside her invitingly.

Luke sighed and gingerly sat on the edge, giving in when she pulled him down onto his back.

"Will you relax already Burger Boy?" Lorelai begged, taking in his rigid posture. Lifting his arm up, she scooted closer toward him, dropping her head to his shoulder and settling his arm around her.

"Are we allowed to do this?" Luke asked self-consciously, his eyes darting around the store in panic.

"What? You mean use the test mattresses for the purpose they were intended?" she teased. "You didn't seem to have any problem doing it in the other stores."

"Not that….this!" he hissed, gesturing down to their intertwined frames.

"Who are you? Emily Post? Would you prefer I kept a one metre distance between us at all times and called our chaperone back in public?"

Hoisting herself up into a sitting position, Lorelai turned and settled atop his thighs, a slight smile tugging at her lips at his discomfort. It never ceased to amaze her that he could be so reserved in public, yet so uninhibited behind closed doors.

"You're supposed to stretch out in the positions you do when you're at home to get a good feel for them," she explained patiently, staring down at him from above. "How else are you supposed to know if the mattress is suitable? Trust me, I'm sure they've seen much worse than us having a G-rated cuddle."

He simply shook his head but as always, capitulated, interlocking his fingers with hers.

Pleased, Lorelai said mischievously, "You know, we should probably give that headboard a proper test drive. Make sure it's up to the job."

He groaned at her pointed wink, rolling them onto their sides and gently pushing her off him, but keeping hold of her hands.

"Whose idea was it to bring you along?" he grumbled.

She smiled her brilliant smile, maintaining eye contact as she asked, "So what's the verdict on this one?"

"Too soft," he grunted.

"Soft is good. It's nice and cushy," she argued, burrowing her shoulder a little deeper into the padding.

"Soft makes it hard to get out of bed for bread deliveries at 4.30 in the morning. Too comfortable."

"So you'd prefer to sleep on a wooden board all night so you're not tempted to go back to sleep?"

"Probably would have made for a much quicker shopping trip," he retorted dryly, prompting her to scowl.

Swinging her legs over the side, Lorelai scrambled to her feet and held out her hand to him, urging him to follow her lead. "Come on Goldilocks; up you get. Let's go and try the water bed!"

-o-

One hour later, Luke found himself in yet another bedding store, his girlfriend's enthusiastic shopping spirit seemingly having not dampened over the course of the afternoon.

After endless rounds of teasing and cheek-reddening bedroom innuendos care of Lorelai, Luke had finally cracked upon entering the latest store, openly vowing to remain silent with the aim of not giving Lorelai any fresh ammunition to taunt him with in front of the salespeople.

He dug his hands into his pockets stubbornly and trailed behind her as she scanned row after row of mattresses. He almost groaned aloud when the perky saleswoman approached them. He'd had a gutful and was beyond ready to call it a day.

Directing her attention to Lorelai, the saleswoman said cheerfully, "Good afternoon ma'am. Can I help you and your husband with anything today?"

He saw the glint appear in Lorelai's eyes and immediately knew she'd found her new wave of material for pushing his buttons. She looked at him, as if daring him to break his vow of silence and correct the salesperson's incorrect assumption. When he held strong, she smiled warmly and said, "Thank you. That would be lovely. We're looking for a queen mattress."

"Are there any particular features you're after?" the worker asked, directing the question to both Luke and Lorelai.

Lorelai rattled off a few points, prompting the salesperson to then turn to Luke expectantly. He was clearly torn about whether to answer, indecision warring inside his head. When a few moments passed and he hadn't responded, Lorelai patted him on the chest and said, "Sorry, you'll have to forgive my husband, Pavlo. He's fresh out from Ukraine so we're still working on his English. The mail order service sure was right about him being a great lover, but they really over-exaggerated his linguistic proficiency."

Luke sputtered out loud and the sales person coughed awkwardly, her eyes darting between them.

"Oh…er…well, no problem. Right this way," she murmured, recovering quickly and leading them to a corner with a selection of mattresses.

The woman prattled about innersprings and hybrids and something called memory foam, whatever the hell that was, pushing Luke's head several steps closer to exploding. He managed to subtly dig his elbow into Lorelai's side in indignation at one point, to which she retorted by casually shifting one of her rings onto her left ring finger to keep up the wild pretext she'd dreamed up.

When the salesperson finished giving them a spiel about a new latex model, Lorelai looked to him inquiringly asking, "Pavlo, honey. You like?"

At his glare, she pointed to the mattress and added, "Soft, not hard," speaking slowly and deliberately and using her hands to illustrate the meaning of her words.

When she saw the muscle twitch in his jaw, she cuddled his arm between hers and stood on her tiptoes to nibble his ear, saying, "It's okay snookums. We'll work on our English a little more when we get home."

Turning back to the saleswoman, she explained casually, "Size is a big consideration for Pavlo in the bedroom. And he's definitely a big fan of hard, not soft. Isn't that right honey? Hard," she stressed loudly, nodding her head. She didn't need to whisper the implied 'dirty' to be rewarded with the vein pulsing in his forehead.

Grasping her arm, Luke gave a firm tug and pointing to the door, barked simply, "Go. Now."

Lorelai couldn't withhold the giggles that streamed from her lips the moment they stepped out into the sunlight, her laughter loud and infectious as she doubled over, desperately trying to draw air.

"We're leaving," Luke growled, only causing her to laughter to intensify.

"Pavlo mad?" she asked with faux sympathy, unable to control the wave of giggles.

"Are you done?" Luke snapped impatiently, only serving to fuel her laughter.

When she finally sobered enough to string a sentence together, she eyed his aggravated expression and with remorseful eyes, added, "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

She opened her arms to him, inviting a hug. After a hard stare, he eventually surrendered and flicked his head as if to signal for her to step toward him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked her head to his chest, murmuring, "Don't worry Snookums; I won't let it happen again," before dissolving into another round of giggles.

-o-

Luke gave in and got the queen.

And while he told Lorelai he'd purchased a mattress with medium firmness, in actual fact, he got the soft version; the kind she liked best.

After her theatrics, he'd banished her to the truck with the lure of a Krispy Kreme while he went back to the very first store they'd visited and purchased a dependable, innerspring mattress with a substantial pillow-top. He had no patience for scanning the rows of bed frames, so he bypassed the idea altogether, deciding he'd fashion something in Buddy's workshop to save him from prolonging the shopping trip or ever reliving this fresh hell. His own creation would probably be more durable than the store bought ones anyway, he reasoned.

The salesperson reminded him he'd require bedding, so he scanned the rack of over-priced linen and hastily selected two sets of sheets and a comforter. Blue. Basic. Functional.

As the salesperson rang up the total, Luke's eyes wandered back to the rack of sheet sets beside the register. His attention was drawn to the brightly colored children's prints and he found himself reaching for a set of single sheets that featured both Garfield as well as the damn brainless dog that Lorelai and Rory loved so much. Otto? Otis? Odie? Yes, that was it.

He quickly added them to the pile and arranged to go and collect the new mattress from the warehouse roller door on the other side of the building. Come hell or high water, he'd find a way to wrestle it into the back of the truck. He had no interest in dragging the process out any longer and waiting days for it to be delivered.

By the time Luke and Lorelai made it back to Stars Hollow, it was almost time for Rory to finish in her classroom, so they detoured past the school to collect her. As they waited in the truck for the school bell to ring, Lorelai attempted to force-feed him dry Cheerios from her handbag, rambling animatedly about low blood sugar and grumpy Luke needing a pick-me-up. Disturbed by her bag's contents as always, Luke vehemently resisted.

He'd never been so happy to see Rory emerge from the school gates, grateful to have someone to divert his girlfriend's attention for a few minutes. As Rory approached the truck, Lorelai stuck her head out the window, adopting a low, creepy voice as she called, "Would you like some candy little girl?"

"Mom! Luke!" she cried excitedly, her backpack bobbing against her back as she ran the last few meters to the truck.

"Get in the van, kid," Lorelai barked gravelly, losing her adopted persona as soon as Rory scrambled up into the cabin and leaned in for a hug.

"Looks like I might need to work on those stranger danger tutorials," Lorelai murmured into her daughter's hair, cradling her close.

Rory simply giggled, saying hello to Luke and hastening to remove her backpack from her shoulders. It was a tight fit in the cabin for all three of them, Lorelai having scooted closer to Luke on the bench seat so Rory could settle on the passenger side.

"There's a mattress in the tray!" Rory squeaked breathlessly, her eyes questioning.

"Yep, Luke just scored himself an upgrade, sweets."

"And I'm never doing it again," he muttered gruffly.

"Oh no, you took Mom with you to the mattress store?" Rory replied knowingly. "Rookie error. You really should have known better."

Lorelai put forward a weak protest at her words, but was silenced by Luke muttering, "Don't I know it."

Once the girls were buckled in tightly and they began travelling the short distance to the diner, Lorelai dropped the bag of sheets into her daughter's lap and encouraged her to peek inside.

"You got Garfield sheets Luke?" Rory asked incredulously, her eyes alight with excitement. "Wow! These are awesome!"

"Check the size," Lorelai prompted, waving her hand vaguely over the shopping bag.

"Single? But the new bed's much bigger than that," she replied in puzzlement, her brow furrowed.

Rapping her knuckles against Luke's thigh affectionately, Lorelai encouraged him to explain.

He cleared his throat lightly, throwing a quick glance at Rory before turning back to the road and murmuring, "I got 'em for you. My old single mattress is still back at the apartment so I thought I might hang onto it in case you ever happened to stay over."

"They're for me?" she squealed excitedly. "Thanks Luke! These are the coolest sheets ever!"

He brushed off her thanks, but Lorelai could see the beginnings of a pleased smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

After pulling up in the back alley outside the diner, they settled Rory at a stool by the register and instructed Caesar to whip her up a snack while the two adults wrestled the mattress up the stairs. With Luke having dismantled the single bed frame before they'd left in the morning, they were able to pull off the plastic wrap and slide the new mattress right into place.

"How long will it take to build the frame?" Lorelai asked inquisitively as they proceeded to pull the sheets from the packaging and load them into the washer.

Luke shrugged. "Couple of weeks, I guess? I could probably knock it over in a day or two if I took some time off work but there's no real rush. I'll be able to get by with the mattress on the floor for a little while."

She nodded, pressing a few buttons on the machine and setting the wash cycle to start.

"We're gonna have to break it in one of these days," she flirted, reaching for him as they walked back into the main area.

"Not much chance of that with the munchkin around."

"Naughty nooner?" she countered impishly.

"No need to ask me twice," he growled, pulling her taut against him and dropping soft kisses against her neck. "Let's make it sooner rather than later."

"I thought you were cranky with me," she teased.

"I am," he agreed, swirling his tongue over her porcelain flesh.

"Do you offer this treatment to everyone you get mad with?" she laughed breathily. "Because Taylor sure must see a lot of action."

"Stop," he commanded sternly, reinforcing his point by gently sinking his teeth into her shoulder.

"Mmmm," she murmured happily, running her hands up and down his back. "Is it bad that I really want to lock the door and leave my darling daughter downstairs in the hands of the good people of Stars Hollow so I can ravish my sexy mail-order husband?"

"I thought Russia only offered mail-order brides, not husbands," he growled.

"Ukraine, remember Pavlo? They're very gender non-specific."

"My mistake," he conceded, the timbre of his voice low and deep as one hand closed over her breast, squeezing her through the fabric of her shirt. "And no, it can't be bad if we're both thinking the same thing."

"So bad," she whispered. "So, so bad."

"So good," he countered, his lips trailing from her collar bone to her mouth.

"So good," she agreed in between kisses, moaning into his mouth.

Reluctantly, she drew her head back, her palms coming to rest against his chest. "Alright sweet talker, time to call it quits before the rugrat walks in and gets an eyeful."

He nodded resignedly, pecking one more kiss against her lips before pulling away.

It wasn't long before they heard the pitter patter of little feet on the stairs, signaling that Rory had finished her afternoon snack.

The 11-year-old admired the new mattress, flopping down on it and marveling at the softness alongside her mother a little while later. When the washing machine beeped to indicate the end of the cycle and Luke moved to switch the items to the dryer, Rory sat up and asked eagerly, "Can we stay here tonight?"

Lorelai chanced a glance at Luke, unsure of how he'd take to an impromptu sleepover.

"Oh I don't know honey. Maybe we should wait until Luke has made his new bed frame and we've worked out the best spot to set up your bed," she responded logically. "He's already taken the single bed frame apart so…."

"But it will be fun," Rory pressed, her eyes wide and hopeful. "We've never had a sleepover at Luke's before and it will be like an indoor camp-out. Without tents," she added thoughtfully. "Or maybe we could have tents inside!" she exclaimed, her excitement growing tenfold. "Please mom! We can sleep with the mattresses on the floor and it will be so cool!"

Lorelai's eyes flicked to Luke to gauge his reaction. He simply shrugged and said, "Fine with me."

Lorelai pursed her lips for a minute, mulling over the idea before saying slowly, "Well, I guess we could seeing as it's a Friday night and there's no school tomorrow."

Rory whooped happily, flopping back down onto the mattress and grinning at her victory.

Three hours later, the trio found themselves gathered around Luke's gas camping stove in the middle of his apartment, the Gilmores insisting on using it as a pretend campfire. They'd dimmed the lights and set up a number of camp lanterns, the girls chattering away happily as they polished off their hot dogs.

"I'm so full," Rory groaned, swallowing her final bite.

"Full? Don't forget we've got the s'mores to go," Lorelai reminded her, prompting Rory's eyes to light up as she sought out the packet of marshmallows.

"Like mother, like daughter," Luke muttered, shaking his head.

"Dessert is a whole separate compartment babe," Lorelai explained easily, popping a final smidgen of hot dog into her mouth and licking her lips appreciatively. "Kid, I gotta hand it to ya. This was a brilliant idea," she praised. "All the perks of camping — namely, the food — without the pitfalls. No smoky hair, no uncomfortable sleeping bags, no threat of bears, no freezing to death in a tent. No wilderness."

"Wilderness skills though," Rory added happily, gesturing to the two-man tent Luke had patiently helped her to set up earlier in the evening.

"We'll call you Gilligan," Lorelai winked.

"Hey! It's still standing isn't it?" Rory protested, poking out her tongue mischievously. Lorelai didn't bother to point out that that was largely thanks to Luke, her little girl's set-up skills leaving a lot to be desired.

Laughing, Lorelai ripped open the bag of marshmallows and took hold of one of the skewers Luke had laid out for them. Settling a marshmallow on the end, she handed it to Rory before threading another for herself.

Luke was designated graham cracker duty, offering them up as needed and watching in disgust as the heat from the marshmallows melted the layers of chocolate.

He had tried his hardest to discourage the Gilmores from loading their _Doose's_ basket with all manner of junk food and decidedly very little greenery, but the girls had overruled him as usual, so he simply took in the scene in abject horror, knowing there was little he could do to dissuade them.

They'd both turned their noses up at the side salad he'd thrown together, Lorelai picking out the chunks of cheese and devouring them in a poor attempt at placating him. As always, his pleas to eat healthy fell on deaf ears and Lorelai seemed to take pleasure from his ever-present frustration.

He begrudgingly held out the packet of crackers once again at the girls' request, his scowl expressing all the sentiments his mouth wasn't.

"These are great!" Lorelai said around a mouth of marshmallow, working on building a second s'more. She pressed a marshmallow between two crackers, watching with satisfaction as the gooey mess seeped out the sides.

"Stop! Please, I can't watch this," he begged, his eyes imploring her to see reason.

"Hey! Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Lorelai protested, taking another satisfying bite. "I'll have you know these are one of America's greatest inventions. Right up there with the microwave, potato chips and Oprah."

"I'll take your word for it," he grumbled, shaking his head.

"Really Luke, you should give it a try," Rory encouraged, offering up her half eaten s'more. "You don't know what you're missing out on."

He eyed the half-demolished treat with distaste, quipping, "Surprisingly, you're not really selling it."

Unfazed, the young girl shrugged and returned to happily gobbling down the sweet treat.

When they'd finally had their fill of sugar for the evening, Rory rested back on her hands, eyeing the clock on the wall as she contemplated their activities for the remainder of the night.

"So what do we do now?" she asked, more inquisitive than bored. "I've never been camping before."

Luke snorted, but at Lorelai's quelling look, refrained from pointing out that this was far from camping.

"What would you normally do on a camping trip?" Lorelai prodded, giving him a nudge with one arm.

"Go to bed early," he grunted. Unable to bear their disappointed expressions, he heaved a sigh and said resignedly, "I don't know…stay up and trade stories around the campfire. Check out the stars. Play a game. Go night fishing."

"Oooh! I wish we could see the stars now," Rory exclaimed. "What kind of games are good for camping Luke?"

"Board games. Cards," he said casually, piling all their dinner plates into a stack.

"Do you have any?" she asked promptly, eagerness shining in her eyes.

He scratched the back of his neck, his expression pensive as he attempted to recall the inventory of largely untouched items buried in his closet.

"Maybe," he said slowly, not entirely sure of whether his old family games were stored in his apartment or storage shed. "Let me have a look."

He'd almost purchased a deck of cards at _Doose's_ the week prior for the times when the diner was particularly quiet, but on principle, he'd balked at Taylor's ridiculous pricing at the last minute.

He padded over to his closet, rifling through the various odds and ends that had been pushed to the back of the top shelf and unearthing an old camera that Rory immediately took a liking to. It appeared to have some shots remaining on the roll of film, and she happily accepted his offer to finish off the reel.

Persisting with his search, Luke seemed to unsettle a layer of dust, sneezing multiple times in a row.

Settling his hand on something wooden, he gave a firm tug and smiled, satisfied, when he caught sight of the item.

"Bingo."

"You found something?" Rory asked excitedly.

"Not exactly what I was looking for but I think you'll be happy."

"What is it?" the girls asked in unison, watching on curiously.

Luke swept his hand across the shelf several more times until he was sure he had all the game pieces, before walking over to their position perched on the queen mattress and placing the game on the floor in front of them.

"I don't know what it's called but it's a fishing game," he explained, prompting Lorelai to scrunch up her nose. "Quit that," he admonished, shooting her a stern glare.

"Hey, they're little ducks," Rory cooed, reaching for one of the pieces. "Look how cute they are Mom!"

On closer inspection, Lorelai had to admit that the game didn't seem too bad after all. Turning one of the ducks over in her hands, she spied a number two underneath and a hook on its back.

"What's with the numbers?" she inquired.

"They're scores from memory. I haven't played since I was a kid."

"A likely story," she teased.

Luke rolled his eyes but added, "You add up all the numbers on the ones you catch and the person with the highest score wins."

"Can we play?" Rory begged, her eyes bright. "Please, please, please."

Luke nodded passively, letting the girls battle it out over the green and pink fishing rods and keeping the blue for himself. He then settled the ducks into position, winding a lever on the side of the base until the ducks began to rotate in a circle.

"Oh, they move!" Rory cried, eager to get started.

The adults let her go first, her tongue resting between her teeth in concentration as she focused on hooking a duck on her fishing rod. It didn't take long for her to snag one, Luke and Lorelai cheering encouragingly. She flipped it over to reveal a number four, prompting Luke to jump to his feet and fetch a pen and paper for them to keep score.

When Lorelai offered to take control of the score pad, Luke shot her a distrustful look and muttered, "What do you take me for? A fool? No chance in hell after you cheated your way through Monopoly."

She simply smirked, happily trying her hand at catching a wooden duck. They took it in turns to hook an animal, their scores steadily rising as more and more ducks were plucked from the field.

When Lorelai surged ahead, recording a string of number fives, she couldn't help but gloat.

"Who says cheating's the only way I win Burger Boy? This is pure, God-given talent baby," she teased, lining up her row of ducks.

Rory giggled, and Luke pretended not to hear her as he rewound the lever to get the remaining ducks circling again. Unwilling to be ignored, Lorelai reached for his plastic fishing rod and tried her hand at hooking his shirt. She managed to get him by the collar, tugging at the flannel fruitlessly in an attempt to reel him in.

"Get your hands off my rod," he growled, his cheeks immediately flushing red at the suggestive look she gave him in response. Her amused blue eyes conveyed the 'dirty' reference she would have certainly made had her daughter not been within a three-meter radius. "Quit it Gilmore," Luke griped.

"You're just jealous I'm a better fisherman than you. On my first try and everything."

"Yes, that's it," he retorted dryly. "It wouldn't have anything to do with you being a royal pain in the ass and hooking my shirt."

"Pity train, ticket for one. What can I say? Winners are grinners, losers are…schmoozers," she faltered, unable to come up with a better gibe on the spot.

"Worked hard on that one did you? It really cuts deep," he deadpanned. "Besides, you're awfully cocky for someone who hasn't officially won yet. Plenty of ducks still up for grabs. It's anyone's game," he pointed out logically.

"Care to make it interesting?" she wagered, raising one eyebrow.

"Oh no," Rory groaned, burying her head in her hands.

"What did you have in mind?" Luke questioned, his curiosity piqued.

"If Rory or I win, you have to…" she trailed off, thinking of a suitable penalty. When her eyes raked the room and landed on the marshmallow packet, she smiled wickedly. "You have to eat a plate of s'mores. At least three of them."

His eyes narrowed.

"And if I win?"

"Well you get to…ummm…"

" _You_ get to eat a plate of vegetables," he chimed in smugly. "Or Rory. Whoever gets the wooden spoon."

"No way!" Rory objected, her eyes wide.

"Scared of losing squirt?" he teased.

She gulped perceptibly, her eyes darting to Lorelai's for reassurance. "I think we've got ourselves a deal kid. Ready to watch that baseball cap go down in flames?"

Emboldened by her mother's cockiness, Rory allowed a smile to tug at her lips, finally nodding in agreement.

"You're on Burger Boy. Let the games begin."

-o-

One hour and three s'mores later, Luke was sure he was entering a diabetic coma.

"Is it normal to feel like I'm going to vomit up the entire contents of my stomach? And why is my heart racing?" he groaned, clutching his abdomen.

"Just getting you in training for your first Emily Gilmore dinner experience," Lorelai quipped, patting his shoulder soothingly. The smirk on her face dispelled any hints of remorse. "Trust me, a sugar coma's the least of your worries when the Hartford circus is in town."

He simply moaned, covering his eyes with his hands.

"Maybe we shouldn't have made him eat all three," Rory said anxiously, eyeing the sweat on his forehead and biting her lip in worry.

"Relax kid, he's a big boy," Lorelai countered, brandishing her hand nonchalantly. "Besides, if he's going to keep up with life with us, he's going to need to be well-versed in the concept of sugar overdose."

Rory watched on dubiously, hovering above Luke's form on the mattress like an over-protective mother hen.

Finally — after capturing a sneaky photo for posterity and perhaps a spot of future blackmail — Lorelai yielded and said, "Alright big guy, that's enough torture for one night. Sit tight while I make you a ginger tea to settle your tummy."

The brew seemed to restore him to his usual self and Luke was back on his feet within 10 minutes.

"You wanna go take a shower babe?" Lorelai asked gently.

"Nah, you girls go. I'll take one later."

It was only then that Lorelai remembered she and Rory didn't have a change of clothes.

"Oh shoot. I didn't run home and pack an overnight bag for us. I should have done that when we went out to _Doose's_ earlier," she cursed. "Rory honey, maybe we should save the sleepover for another night. We don't have a change of clothes here."

"No!" the 11-year-old protested, wide eyed. "Please, you promised Mom!"

Unwilling to break her daughter's heart, Lorelai sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Well I guess we could go and get them now," she offered reluctantly. Venturing outside was the last thing she wanted to do at the late hour.

Yawning, Rory shook her head and said softly, "Do we have to? I'm tired. Can't I just sleep in what I'm wearing and change in the morning?"

Lorelai wasn't too concerned at the idea of Rory climbing into bed in her school uniform as her daughter was never one for rough-and tumble play in the dirt, but she had to admit the outfit looked fairly restrictive and unpleasant for sleeping in.

"Baby, don't you think it might be a bit uncomfortable?"

Rory merely rubbed her eyes tiredly, too worn out to protest further.

Touching Lorelai's arm lightly, Luke said, "You guys could borrow something of mine if you like. My shirts will be way too big but at least she'll be comfortable."

Smiling in thanks, Lorelai asked, "Sweets? How about we deck you out in one of Luke's shirts instead? It might be a bit more comfortable for you."

Rory nodded, happy just to have a solution that required little effort on her part.

Luke rummaged through his closet, selecting two flannel shirts worn soft from countless years of use. Lorelai automatically claimed the dark blue one, having pilfered it on many prior occasions and smiling inwardly at the knowledge it was now as much hers as his. She fully intended to smuggle it home and lay claim to it indefinitely.

She offered the other shirt to Rory, encouraging her daughter to head to the bathroom and prepare for bed.

"You go first. I just want to set up everything in my tent first, then I'll take a shower," Rory explained, moving to slide the single mattress as far inside the tent as it would go.

"Okay, I'll lay a towel out for you."

Lorelai pecked a kiss to Luke's scruffy cheek when he subtly pulled a black pair of her underwear from his drawer and mumbled shyly, "Here. You left these here a while ago."

When she emerged from the bathroom in her flannel 15 minutes later, she found Rory pulling a selection of novels from her school bag and Luke standing at the kitchen counter, methodically washing the dinner plates.

"Hey! You shouldn't be doing that Burger Boy," she chastised, attempting to swat him out of the way. "I'm in charge of cleaning. You cooked."

"Hardly," he snorted. "I'm not sure hot dogs qualify as food."

"Shove over," she insisted, nudging him aside with her hip in an attempt to take over.

He remained firmly in place, gesturing to the plate he held in one hand and murmuring, "No point. All done; this is the last of it."

She dropped a kiss to his shoulder softly in thanks, and scooping up a mound of bubbles from the sink, lightly tapped some on the end of his nose. He scowled at the movement, but as always, there was no real venom.

"So, what's a girl gotta do to get a cup of coffee around here?" she drawled, twisting a lock of hair around one finger. "Any chance you wanna head downstairs and fire up the coffee machine for little ol' me?"

"You're losing your touch," he noted expressionlessly, shutting off the water and moving to dry his hands.

"Come again?"

"That in-built liquid death radar must be malfunctioning."

At her confused look, he flicked his head to the side and murmured simply, "Final cupboard, bottom shelf."

Curious, Lorelai immediately reached for the cupboard door, squealing in delight when she sighted its contents.

"You got me a coffee plunger?" she asked excitedly, hugging the item to her chest.

"Figured I could use one for when I have company," he answered nonchalantly.

"You never have company," she challenged knowingly, her eyes bright. "Just a couple of Gilmore girls."

He rolled his eyes but she could see he was pleased.

"Hand it over," he sighed, accepting the item in his outstretched hand. "And the coffee," he added, pointing back beneath the cupboard. "Decaf," he barked for good measure, knowing she'd ignore him anyway.

She clapped her hands together delightedly as he began the brewing process, cooing, "Lukey, you really are the perfect man."

"Yeah, yeah, say it with Sox tickets," he intoned dryly as she moseyed over to inspect Rory's tent setup.

Almost half the mattress protruded from the triangular entrance and a flashlight rested inside in preparation for reading alongside Luke later. Personally, Lorelai thought squeezing Luke's muscular frame into the cramped space was rather ambitious, but there was always the chance the two of them could fit lying down.

Smiling down at her daughter, Lorelai reached for the camera and called, "Say 'Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity!'"

Rory giggled, allowing Lorelai to snap her picture.

"Rory, you want a hot chocolate?" Luke called.

The younger Gilmore's eyes lit up and she answered with an enthusiastic yes. He set about preparing it while she disappeared into the bathroom to shower.

Lorelai promptly commandeered the flashlight and, much to Luke's chagrin, set about making crude shadow puppets on the outside of the tent. He scolded her once, twice, three times, before eventually taking matters into his own hands and attempting to wrestle the flashlight from her amid peals of laughter. When he finally managed to wrench it from her grasp, he used his other hand to swat her backside playfully.

Instructing her to behave, he tugged her toward the wooden dining table and placed her mug in front of her. Turning back to the kitchen bench, he carefully selected a leftover marshmallow and floated it on the top of Rory's hot chocolate.

The marshmallow was beginning to get all gooey and melted — just the way she liked it — when Rory appeared fresh from the shower, clouds of steam billowing from the small room behind her.

"Feel better Sweets?" Lorelai inquired, smiling as she took in her daughter's slight frame draped in Luke's oversized shirt.

The 11-year-old nodded sleepily, willingly padding over to her mother's outstretched arms.

The long sleeves dangled limply at her sides, the cuffs having slipped down over her hands as soon as she'd finished threading the buttons, leaving them hanging somewhere in the vicinity of her calves. The outfit might as well have been a dress, the hem skimming Rory's shins.

"Here, let me help you find those hands of yours," Lorelai joked, pulling Rory into her lap. She set about rolling up each sleeve, surveying her work with a satisfied smile when the material stayed in place.

Her eyes heavy with sleep, Rory nestled her head into the crook of Lorelai's shoulder and sighed serenely.

Luke could have sworn his heart almost beat out of his chest when he turned to take in the vision of them cuddled together. He willed the image to burn into his brain forever, his chest filling with warmth. He couldn't stop himself from reaching for the camera and capturing the moment. When Lorelai looked up in surprise at the sound of the 'click' and smiled, he wound the film on and snapped another.

There they sat — both swathed in flannel — relaxed and utterly content in his presence. Dwarfed by his shirt and pressed against her mother, Rory exuded an air that was distinctly more child than pre-teen.

Lorelai, on the other hand, was every bit the embodiment of woman and sex appeal itself — equal parts soft, maternal, protective and loving; yet, sexy, playful, unbridled and sassy. The bare skin of her thigh on display where the flannel had ridden up was enough to send his head into a spin, and the caveman in him screamed at him to ravish her and create a whole brood of mini-Rorys to call his own.

 _Woah. Where the hell had that come from?_

"What?" Lorelai asked self-consciously, cocking her head at the peculiar look he was giving her. "Have I got something on my face?"

He flushed pink and averted his eyes at the realization she'd caught him staring.

"N-no, you're good," he stammered, a little embarrassed by his unchecked mind. Turning to collect Rory's mug from the counter, he moved to settle it in front of her on the table.

Lorelai's furrowed brow told him she was still curious, and she stared up at him questioningly.

"You're both in flannel," he said softly, a smile tugging at his lips.

She looked down and laughed, rubbing her palm along a sleepy Rory's arm gently. "It was only a matter of time before you brainwashed us. Next it'll be the baseball cap. You slipped something into my coffee to accomplish it, didn't you?"

He winked, waving off Rory's thanks when she reached for her mug in what appeared to be one last-ditch effort to stay awake.

"We're like a little flannel family," Lorelai added, gesturing to all three of their shirts. "Ooh! I know! We should all put on Santa hats, grab a picture, and send out Christmas cards with matching outfits. My mother would have a stroke!"

"Let's refrain from sending anyone to the emergency room, shall we?" he chastised dryly. "Besides, this might come as a shock to you but I'm fresh out of Santa hats."

When she smiled up at him, her blue eyes full of mirth, he once again felt his heart thud in his chest.

In that moment, he knew.

He loved her. Was _in_ love with her, pure and simple. Even though he hadn't worked up the courage to say the words yet.

Overcome, he reached out one work-roughened hand to run through her curls, and surprised both girls by pressing an adoring kiss to their foreheads.

-o-

 **Author's note: There you have it! After the last drama-filled chapter, I thought you deserved something a little lighter!**

 **What did you think? As always, I would LOVE to hear your feedback! Thanks for sticking with me guys, particularly when I can't always find the time to update quickly. I appreciate it! x**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note:** Umm…holy wow guys! This story finally cracked 200 reviews and I am beyond stoked! I'd been quietly hopeful it might happen after I posted chapter 19 a few weeks ago, but it stalled on 198 and I was resigned to the fact it wasn't meant to be. Then I woke up this morning and BAM! Five reviews in one night out of nowhere. Thank you soooo much! To everyone who has reviewed, followed or faved this story, please know that it means a lot to this first-time writer and I am so grateful to each and every one of you. Your comments are so appreciated. Feedback is always welcomed!

 **Story recap:** Last chapter, Luke decided to make his apartment a little more Gilmore-friendly by investing in a coffee plunger and a queen bed. Against his better judgement, he took Lorelai with him to purchase the new mattress, resulting in her dragging him from store to store and teasing him with plenty of bedroom-related innuendos.

At 11-year-old Rory's insistence, they camped out in Luke's apartment that night, the Gilmores each donning one of his flannel shirts in the absence of their own PJs. Our favorite diner owner then came to the realization he was head over heels for one Miss Lorelai Gilmore. All he needed was the courage to tell her…

 **Warning:** This chapter does contain a little bit of mature content. Consider this the official heads up!

-o-

 **Chapter 20**

Lorelai pulled up in front of the Crap Shack, the pitch-dark house and the absence of Luke's truck indicating he and Rory were yet to arrive from the diner.

Shutting off the engine, she grabbed her handbag from the passenger seat and ventured up the porch steps, her muscles weary after a long day on her feet. A sense of relief washed over her as she stepped inside, content in the knowledge that she'd soon be unwinding with her two favorite people.

Lorelai absently thumbed through the pile of mail she'd ignored for far too long, scrunching up her nose at the power bill and casting it aside in favor of the shoe catalog. The leather boots were out of her price range but she busied herself taking in the designs nonetheless, particularly enamored by some knee-length styles that were nothing short of fabulous.

Letting out a low whistle at the inflated price tag, she tossed the stack of mail back onto the table and resolved to run through the rest of it after dinner. She proceeded to inspect the fridge for anything remotely edible, her attention drawn to the numerous vegetables scattered throughout. She noted with surprise that for once, the suspicious greenery lurking on the shelves actually wasn't mold. Not that that made it any more appealing.

The old Lorelai would have balked at the sight of so many health foods, and while – as always – she definitely didn't have any intention of letting them within a 10-mile radius of her mouth, she found their presence oddly comforting. She allowed a small smile to play on her lips at the thought of the subtle traces of diner man cropping up around the house that indicated a third person was now regularly inhabiting the Crap Shack. She liked that an extra toothbrush had mysteriously migrated into her bathroom and that the occasional swath of worn flannel would surface in her washing basket, intermixed with her mass of denim, satin and rhinestones. Granted, she might have had a hand in that, but who could blame her when his shirts were clearly a hundred times softer and more inviting than any pajamas she owned?

Zeroing in on the half-eaten tube of sweetened condensed milk, she hastily grabbed it from the door and proceeded to squirt some directly into her mouth, licking the sticky goodness from her lips.

A flash of headlights soon flooded the kitchen, the movement and the roar of the truck engine alerting her that Luke and Rory had arrived. The duo entered the kitchen a minute later, each clutching a _Luke's_ bag and Luke shouldering Rory's school backpack.

"You're a vision!" Lorelai exclaimed, her eyes greedily taking in the array of food. "I'm so hungry I thought I was going to have to take down a wildebeest with my own two hands if you didn't make it home soon."

Rory smiled warmly, offering up her paper bag for inspection as she accepted her mother's kiss in greeting.

Lorelai pilfered a fry from its depths and turned to Luke as he set his bag down onto the bench, his expression neutral and his lips set in a hard line.

"What about you mister? Where's my kiss hello?" Lorelai entreated.

He walked over to her, pecking her lips dutifully before grumbling, "You're snacking on sweetened condensed milk straight from the tube again? How many times do I have to tell you not to eat that rubbish? It will rot your teeth."

Lorelai smiled impishly before taking another hit of the sickly sweetness, mainly for the sake of getting a reaction from him.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, turning on his heel.

When he didn't bother kick-starting their regular 10 rounds of banter, Lorelai shot a quizzical look at Rory. Addressing his turned back as he foraged in the cupboard for plates, she inquired, "Bad day babe?"

He merely grunted in acknowledgement, setting the plates down as he drew cutlery from the top drawer. When it became apparent he wasn't planning on offering any further explanation, Rory shrugged and said, "Luke's mad because cell phones are overtaking the diner."

"Ooh, like _Night of the Living Dead_ but with cell phones instead of zombies?" Lorelai exclaimed.

"Even scarier apparently," Rory smirked, her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.

"Oh, there, there Burger Boy," Lorelai clucked. "The big, bad cells won't hurt you. And even if they do stage an all-out riot, you've got a whole stock room full of condiments at your disposal that you can use to defend yourself. That mustard packs quite a punch."

His pointed glare did little to silence her, Lorelai taking great pleasure from the blatant exasperation etched across his face. She estimated they had about 20 seconds before he was in full-on rant mode.

Giving him one last push, she added with feigned seriousness, "You know, I think cell phones are a great way of connecting people and bringing communities together."

The simple sentence was enough to send him over the edge, and Luke dropped the cutlery onto the stack of plates with a clatter as he exploded, "They're nothing but a nuisance! I don't know why everybody suddenly has a need to have a gigantic piece of metal stuck to their ear 24/7. I mean, traditional methods have worked for centuries so why change now? If it ain't broke, don't fix it," he ranted, gesturing wildly.

"You want to talk to somebody? Get a god damn land line!" he fumed. "Or God forbid anyone actually gets off their backside to communicate. We'd all be better off if Clinton just ended the madness now and dug a gigantic hole so we could dispose of the evidence and pretend it never happened. Forget the risk of radiation; we should be more concerned at the loss of IQ points! People are so damn caught up in their conversations they don't even stop to think that maybe _someone_ can overhear every word they're saying. Which, by the way, is impossible to miss because they talk so loudly. The entire diner can hear!

"Do you honestly think I need to know that Mrs. Krasingsky's granddaughter got a moodle – whatever the hell that is? Or that Andrew asked Claire on a date but she's not sure if she can go because he dated her brother's, girlfriend's best friend and that might be weird? Or that Jim Carson got caught having an affair with a woman half his age?"

"Oh my god! Was it Violet, the aerobics instructor?" Lorelai gasped, enthralled.

Oblivious to anything but his rage-filled monologue, Luke continued on ranting.

"They even talk while they're standing at the register! You'd think doing it throughout their entire meal would be enough, but no, apparently that's not quite the epitome of annoying. How the hell am I supposed to ring up the damn orders? One customer even took his cell into the bathroom. The _bathroom_ , Lorelai! Forget bad manners; that's just plain unhygienic," he sputtered, a vein bulging in his forehead.

"I bet he bypassed washing his hands too and went straight for the donut case," Lorelai goaded, doing her best to keep a straight face.

Ignoring her jibe, he implored, "I mean whatever happened to having a face-to-face conversation with someone?"

"Says Monosyllabic Man," Lorelai quipped, her eyebrow raised teasingly.

"The damn things are a scourge on society and the best thing we could do would be to throw them on board the _Atlantis_ and shoot them off into space," Luke finished dramatically, his chest heaving as he threw his hands up into the air.

Watching the drama unfold from her adopted seat at the table, Rory chewed on a fry thoughtfully before saying, "So why don't you just make a sign?"

Her casual manner prompted Luke to stop in his tracks, and he turned to her wide-eyed and asked, "What did you just say?"

"I said 'why don't you just make a sign?'" she repeated logically, shrugging her shoulders as if it was the most obvious solution in the world. "No cell phones allowed."

Luke seemed to ponder the idea for all of three seconds before he pointed his finger decisively and declared, "Yes. That's exactly what I'm going to do! I'm gonna make a sign and if anybody dares to so much as pull their phone out in my presence, I'll throw them out on the pavement. I don't care if they're a paying customer. Simple as that."

"And they say customer service is dead," Lorelai deadpanned.

Striding over to Rory with purpose, Luke squeezed her shoulders and ruffled her hair affectionately, clearly inspired as he exclaimed, "You're a genius, Squirt. Why didn't I think of that?"

The young girl smiled proudly, letting out a soft giggle when Lorelai squeezed another mass of sweetened condensed milk into her mouth and asked, "Hey Luke, what are the chances of you getting me a cell phone for Christmas?"

-o-

After dinner, Luke found himself waiting patiently in the living room for the girls to change into their pajamas in readiness for movie night. Being a week night, they were limited to one film before Rory's bed time, the Gilmores having finally settled on _Sixteen Candles_ after a solid half-hour of deliberation.

Resting his head against the back of the couch, Luke allowed his eyes to flutter closed, blocking out the mass of candy packets scattered across the coffee table. He had little interest in watching the movie, but concluded some quiet time with his girls on the couch was just what the doctor ordered after a busy day of work.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up to find Lorelai flouncing down the stairs, a mischievous smile adorning her lips. He didn't need to look twice to ascertain the reason for it, immediately scowling when his eyes settled on the flannel she was clothed in. It suddenly occurred to him that it was the one he'd loaned her when she and Rory had camped out at his apartment, having not seen it in his wash basket or closet since that night.

Before he could so much as utter one word, Lorelai was in front of him, tugging at the collar of his standard flannel ensemble as she said, "Oh, I'm glad you got the dress code memo too. Cute outfit spunk."

"Lorelai," he growled, snagging her by the hem of her shirt and glaring at her grumpily. She pulled her hair free of the collar and flicked it backward with a laugh, knowing that with that one move he'd be putty in her hands.

Not a moment later, Rory appeared in the living room, adjusting one sleeve as she looked down at her own matching shin-length flannel and asked, "Hey Luke, does this come in purple?"

"Oh geez. You too?" he barked, dropping his head into his hands.

Their prank having had the desired effect, the two girls high fived, giggling wildly.

"Take them off," he demanded hotly, his expression indignant.

"If you say so," Lorelai shrugged, moving to shuck the shirt.

"Lorelai!" he cried exasperatedly, grabbing her around the waist and halting her attempt at stripping openly in front of him and her daughter.

His evasive action only fueled her amusement, and he realized with frustration that she'd had no real intention of getting naked.

"This is not funny," he growled petulantly, prompting the girls to burst into another round of giggles. "I mean it. I want those shirts washed and returned this week."

"Ah, Luke. That might be kind of a problem," Rory said earnestly, as per the scripting from her mother. Holding up her arms to display the newly sewn cuffs, she explained, "I'm not sure this one will fit you anymore."

"You sewed my shirt?" he exclaimed incredulously, his wrath directed at Lorelai.

"Well, you've gotta admit babe, we do look damn good in flannel. And there's no denying it was way too big on her, even as a nightgown."

"It's _my_ shirt!" he shouted.

"Please, you've got about 20 more where these came from," she scoffed. "You're practically Barney Rubble – same outfit, different day."

"Please Luke, don't be mad," Rory begged, dropping her lower lip. "You don't mind if we keep them do you?"

"Do _not_ give me the Rory eyes!" he warned, holding out one finger threateningly and covering his own eyes so he couldn't be suckered in by her pout.

Lorelai snickered, giving the 11-year-old a wink that told her she'd played her part superbly. At her mother's nod, Rory climbed onto the couch beside him and whispered, "Please Luke, they're our new movie night outfits. We can't watch a movie without them."

"You two are playing me and I'm not having a bar of it," he grumbled, still shielding his face so as to avoid making eye contact.

Rory nudged him a little and managed to burrow her head underneath the arm he held up to his face, settling her cheek against his chest. She wrapped her small hand around his free one as she said softly, "I really like cuddling up in your shirt Luke."

He did his best to hold strong, but as anticipated, it didn't take long for him to fail miserably. He expelled yet another trademark, "Aw geez," adding a groan in for good measure.

Lorelai whooped triumphantly at his surrender, beaming at her daughter and cooing, "There's Mommy's little girl!"

Rory giggled girlishly, offering Luke an apologetic smile and leaning in to peck a kiss against his scruffy cheek. Lorelai followed suit, ignoring the hard set of his lips and nestling in against his other side.

"Don't worry Doll; we'll take good care of them, I promise," she teased, settling a blanket over their legs and wiping some residual lipstick from his skin.

Pulling both girls in tight against his muscular frame, he shook his head exhaustedly and muttered, "What the hell did I do in a past life to cop you two?"

-o-

Padding into the bedroom after showering that night, Luke found Lorelai seated Indian-style on the edge of the bed, her face deep in thought. When she barely registered his presence, he set down the tangle of clothes in his arms and eyed her curiously.

"What's up? You seem distracted," he uttered, his eyes landing on the discarded letter that rested on the bedside table.

The softly spoken words seemed to shake her from her trance and she turned to face him, her expression pensive.

"Oh, sorry babe, it's nothing major. I just got a letter from Rory's school today that threw me a little."

"Is everything okay?" he asked worriedly, concern evident in his tone as he paused in turning down the covers on his side of the bed. "Has one of the other kids been giving her trouble?"

"You gonna rough 'em up? Crack out the shotgun and show 'em who's boss?"

"Lorelai," he grumbled impatiently.

"She's fine Luke," she assured him. "Mrs. Fletcher was just giving parents the heads up that the kids are about to start sex education classes."

"They're _what_?" He asked incredulously, straightening up. "Are they crazy? Rory's 11! Barely 11! She should be playing with dolls or making mud pies, not learning about something she won't be doing for a very long time. Or ever if I can help it."

Lorelai couldn't help but snort. "Babe, when was the last time you saw Rory play with a doll? And just quietly, I know she's very much a kid now but I wouldn't bet on her being a nun when she's older."

"That is not the point and you know it. She's a child, Lorelai. It's way too soon."

Lorelai simply ran her hand over the quilt cover distractedly, her eyes downcast as she said, "I don't know if it is."

"You're kidding, right?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I mean it definitely rattled me when I first read the letter but the more I think about it, the more sense it's beginning to make."

Taking in Luke's alarmed stare, she added softly, "She's gonna find out sooner or later babe. That's if she hasn't heard whispers already. I'd prefer she gets it from a reliable source rather than hearing incorrect information from other kids."

"But…but…" he stammered futilely.

"I doubt they're going to hit her with all the gory details. It'll just be a general overview of the birds and the bees. From what the letter says, it looks like they're also going to cover all those delightful body changes that happen when adolescence rolls around."

"Aw geez," Luke groaned, flushing a violent shade of red. Lorelai loved the blush that always crept onto his cheeks whenever she broached a topic that made him even the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Frowning, Lorelai explained, "It's not the sex part I'm worried about. I know she's still so innocent and that's miles away, but I guess it's just really hit home that she's not going to be my little girl for much longer. I've only got this tiny window of time before she's going to be all grown up."

"She'll always be your little girl," Luke murmured, his expression softening as he moved closer to where she sat on the bed and ran one hand through her soft curls.

"I know, but still. Time is just flying by. I mean, it won't be long before she has _boobs_ Luke."

"Oh geez," he winced, raising a hand in the air to halt her speech and scrunching his eyes closed tight. "That is something I definitely did not need to hear."

"Now can you see why I'm freaking out?"

"Believe me, I'm hearing you loud and clear," he grunted. Desperate to set her at ease but feeling far from calm himself, Luke added, "Well…ummm…that's er…still a while off, yeah? You know, until she umm…" he trailed off awkwardly, gesturing wildly at his chest.

"I don't know. I hope so. It seems to be happening so early these days."

"Well how old were you? Genetics have got to play some kind of a role, right?"

Lorelai snorted, glancing down at her petite frame as she said, "I'm still waiting for the girls to come through."

"Hey, no insults please," he chastised, pulling her up from the bed and drawing her against him. "I happen to be particularly fond of that part of your anatomy."

Fingering the neck of the oversized flannel she wore, Luke gently pulled the fabric lower, giving him a better view of the swell of her breasts.

"Small," she whispered.

"Perfect," he countered. Lowering his head, he allowed the soft stubble on his chin to brush against her ivory skin before dropping a soft kiss to the top of each breast.

"You don't wish they were a little…uh…bigger?" she asked quietly, in one of her rare displays of vulnerability.

"Nope," he murmured truthfully, lowering his face to the valley between her breasts and drinking in her musky scent. "I wouldn't care if you were as flat as a board or if they were so big we had to use a crane to get you out of the house. As long as they're attached to you, I'd love them any way they came."

"Smooth talker," Lorelai scoffed, raising her eyebrows teasingly.

As if to prove his point, he nuzzled his nose against her before playfully biting her soft skin.

"Luke!" Lorelai giggled, threading her fingers through his hair as she held him to her. Perhaps they could save their conversation for another time.

He continued to shower her chest with attention, peppering soft kisses against the freckles that dotted her skin. Gradually working his hands up from her waist, he cupped her breasts, gently testing the weight of them through the barrier of her clothes.

Lorelai sighed, arching her back to give him better access. "You're awfully good at that."

"Practice makes perfect," he muttered, laving the top of one breast with open-mouth kisses before turning his attention to the other.

She felt his warm hand slip beneath her shirt, burning a trail over her back before reaching the fabric of her bra. He expertly unhooked the clasp, sliding his hand back around to her waist before moving it higher once again.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to feel me up Mr Danes," Lorelai teased, running her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck.

"Nah," he hummed against her, snaking his hand beneath one of the loose cups of her bra and squeezing the soft mound gently.

"Hmmm?"

"I'm trying to get you into bed."

"God, I hope they don't teach that in sex ed classes," she said breathily.

"Lorelai," he chastised sternly, pulling back to glower at her.

Drawing her hand to his cheek, Lorelai whispered, "Just for the record, it's working." She leaned in to capture his lips with her own, moaning contentedly when his resolve wavered and she felt him respond to her kiss. "Take me to bed Luke."

He didn't hesitate, breaching what little distance rested between them and guiding her down to the mattress gently. "We'll finish that conversation later," he grumbled, too intent on unbuttoning the pilfered flannel and stripping it from her shoulders. Lorelai shifted her arms to help him with his quest, allowing him to peel her bra away in the process.

He hovered above her, his breath catching in his throat as he paused to take in her bare torso. Desire colored his eyes a shade darker and he marveled at the shiver that ran down her spine as he trailed his fingers lightly down her side.

"You're looking a little overdressed to me," Lorelai whispered flirtatiously, running one finger over the wisp of chest hair protruding from his t-shirt.

"Now that you mention it, I am feeling a little warm. Feel free to ditch the shirt."

"Hmm…see, that's just it. I'm an all or nothing kind of girl," she replied, holding her index finger to her chin as if deep in thought.

"Well I wouldn't want to cramp your style," he obliged, allowing her to untie the drawstring on his sweatpants in readiness for discarding them.

Working her way upward, she slipped her hands beneath his shirt and splayed them across the hard planes of his abdomen.

"These muscles must have driven all the Stars Hollow High girls wild back in senior year," she whispered, delighting in the self-deprecating snicker he elicited at her words. "You would have had all the dads locking up their daughters."

Drawing back momentarily, Luke pulled his t-shirt over his head before dropping to his elbows and kissing her tenderly.

"Those high school boys wouldn't have stood a chance with you," he rasped, burying his head in her neck and covering her with soft kisses. "I'm so glad I didn't meet you until after my teenage years."

"Hey, that's not nice," she whined.

"True though," he murmured, kissing his way across her collarbone. "I can barely control myself around you now. Imagine how much more difficult that would have been at 16."

Lowering his hips so the hard bulge of his sweats brushed against her thigh, Luke added, "Just thinking about you would have gotten me into some very embarrassing situations. Your eyes," he murmured, dropping a soft kiss against her eyelids, his lips moving to every location that fell from his mouth. "Your lips. Your breasts. Your legs. God, your legs in one of those tight miniskirts."

Shifting his lips close to the shell of her ear, he whispered, "I would have been so hard all the time Lorelai. I'm so hard right now. Can't you see what you do to me?"

Lorelai moaned, wrapping her arms around his back in an attempt to bring him closer to her.

"You're toeing a dangerous line Butch. You keep going the way you're going and I might have to issue you with a detention," she threatened, a teasing lilt to her tone.

He snorted, rearing back to abandon his sweats and inch her panties down her legs before settling against her thighs.

"Have I been bad Ms. Gilmore?" he asked huskily, tugging on her bottom lip.

Cupping his ass, she pulled him closer and purred, "You're about to be."

-o-

A few weeks into October, it had been what was fast becoming a regular morning in the Gilmore household.

Rory sat beside her mother at the kitchen table savoring the mountain of scrambled eggs and bacon Luke had dotingly prepared for them. As always, the mouthwatering aroma of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, tendrils of steam escaping the mug clasped securely in Lorelai's hand.

Leaning back against the kitchen counter as he systematically worked his way through a bowl of oatmeal, Luke allowed his gaze to settle on the two Gilmores. The incessant chatter flowed easily between them and he found himself more focused on their animated facial expressions than the rapid-fire conversation tumbling from their lips.

It wasn't until he vaguely took in Rory's inquisitive tone of voice that her softly spoken words fully registered in his brain.

"Mom, are you and Luke trying to make a baby?"

Having just brought a spoonful of oatmeal and honey to his mouth, Luke felt the mushy mixture catch in his throat mid-swallow, prompting him to cough and splutter loudly.

Both sets of concerned blue eyes immediately landed on him, Lorelai jumping to her feet to pat him on the back as he grappled for air.

"Ooooookay," she ground out in surprise, her eyes wide and displaying her similar state of shock despite her best attempts at nonchalance.

 _What had led Rory to ask that? Had she heard them upstairs at some point? Was it possible they'd forgotten to lock the bedroom door one time?_

"How ya doin' there big guy? Don't go pulling a Tommy Dorsey on me now," Lorelai joked nervously.

Continuing to choke, Luke hunched over the kitchen sink, his body racked with coughs. Quickly filling a glass with water, Lorelai ushered him out the side door onto the porch and rubbed his back reassuringly as he fought to draw breath. She handed him the glass, and after receiving a nod and a dismissive wave of his hand to indicate he would be fine, she strode back into the kitchen to face her daughter's burning question.

"Is Luke okay?" Rory asked worriedly, her blue eyes wide as she took in the incessant coughing from the porch.

"He's fine baby. The oatmeal just…er...went down the wrong way," Lorelai affirmed reassuringly. "He'll be back in in a minute."

"I'm sorry. Did I upset him?" she fretted as Luke continued to struggle for breath between coughs. "I shouldn't have asked that, should I?"

"No, of course you can ask sweetie. I'm your mom; you can ask me anything. Luke is fine. He just needs a minute to catch his breath. Put it down to a minor oatmeal malfunction. Happens all the time."

Rory still looked concerned, but accepted her mother's cavalier response without dispute.

"So er…you were saying…" Lorelai began leadingly.

"It doesn't matter," Rory mumbled, her face flushing.

"If it's important to you, then it's important to Luke and I. Why don't you tell me what's on your mind."

Her eyes downcast, Rory absently pushed her eggs around her plate with her fork before finally throwing Lorelai another curveball.

"I've just been thinking lately. Did you love my dad?" she asked quietly.

Lorelai's immediate impulse – as with any probing question posed to her – was to deploy a clever wisecrack in an attempt to avoid answering, but the genuine surprise she felt combined with the curiosity and sincerity evident in her daughter's eyes pulled her up short. Rory had always been her weak spot.

Doing her best to hide her shock, Lorelai mumbled lightheartedly, "Gee kid, you sure know how to keep the breakfast conversation light and fluffy."

Adopting a more serious manner, she set down her cutlery slowly and locked eyes with her daughter.

"Of course I love your dad sweetie. You know that. There's a part of me that will always love him because he gave me you."

"I do know that," Rory agreed. "But I mean before you had me. Did you love Dad then? When you were boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Lorelai pursed her lips, desperately wondering what had prompted Rory's latest line of questioning.

"Oh honey. That's a complicated question with a complicated answer," she sighed. Taking in Rory's deep blue orbs staring up at her imploringly, she picked up the remaining piece of bacon from her plate and chewed thoughtfully as she mulled over a suitable answer.

"At that age, I didn't know what love was. It wasn't until I held you in my arms a year or so later that I really understood. I think…I think the bond your dad and I shared was the closest thing to love that I knew at the time. I realize I haven't told you much about my life back then – and I will when you get a bit older – but things weren't going so well for me at home and I was pretty unhappy."

"You and Grandma and Grandpa weren't getting along," Rory murmured knowingly.

"We had our differences, sure. Your dad…well, he was my oldest friend and he understood a lot of what was going on and how I was feeling because things weren't so easy for him at home either."

"But it wasn't love," Rory deduced sagely.

Lorelai paused, searching for the right words which, for once, were not coming easily. "It was comfort and...solidarity," she eventually concluded.

At Rory's quizzical look, she added, "You can look that one up in your dictionary later."

Taking a steadying breath, Lorelai explained, "I loved your dad as a friend, kiddo; my best friend actually. Now that I'm a little bit older and wiser, I can see we were just a couple of kids living in a very adult world. We weren't mature enough and didn't know ourselves well enough to be in love. We've always loved you though from the moment you took your first breath. Before that actually. Holding you for the first time was the best moment of my life."

When Rory made no move to speak, Lorelai moved her hand to grasp her daughter's across the table, softly asking, "Where's all this coming from anyway?"

Rory blinked shyly, her bright blue eyes partially shielded by her long lashes.

After a moment's pause, she timidly explained, "We had some physical education classes at school last week."

Lorelai nodded, the penny beginning to drop as she urged Rory to continue.

"Mrs. Fletcher said that when two people…umm… _you know_ ," she exaggerated awkwardly, raising her eyebrows to get her point across, "they do it either to make a baby or because they love and trust each other and want to show it. And I know you and Dad weren't planning to make a baby, so I just thought…"

"Your dad and I weren't always the best at following the rules," Lorelai acknowledged wryly. "We were too young to be doing what we were doing. I will never regret what happened between us because it brought you to me, but I don't want you following in my footsteps Rory. I know it will be years before you'll even be considering these things – you'll be at least 80 if I have anything to say about it – but I need you to understand how important it is to make smart decisions when you're all grown up and the time comes. Mrs. Fletcher is right. Being with someone that way is something you should only do with partner that you really, truly love and trust. I know that now."

Absorbing her mother's words, Rory nodded her understanding, her cheeks tinged pink as she said, "So do you have to be married?"

"Some people like to wait for marriage, but that's totally a personal choice."

"What do you think?"

"Me? I think as long as two people are old enough and mature enough to be taking that step, then it's okay not to wait until marriage. You can make your own mind up about that one down the track though."

Silence soon settled between them, Rory taking a moment to process her thoughts. Neither Gilmore seemed to register the absence of coughing from the porch or Luke's presence in the doorway.

"Rory?" Lorelai hedged, her eyes seeking out her daughter's. "I'm glad you feel comfortable coming to me about this babe. I'll always be happy to talk to you and answer your questions. You know that, right?"

Rory gave a half smile, nodding mutely.

"Actually, I do have some more questions."

"Shoot."

Wringing her hands nervously, the pre-teen finally ground out, "You and Luke. I mean, you're boyfriend and girlfriend, right? So…"

At her mother's reassuring nod, she plowed on, embarrassment evident in her manner. "So do…? Are you trying to make a baby?"

 _Any question but that one._

Hovering passively in the doorway, Luke had overheard much of the conversation but had actively refrained from interrupting what was clearly a sensitive exchange between mother and daughter. Despite Lorelai having seemingly breezed through the discussion thus far with her trademark confidence, he now noticed her shoulders stiffen slightly at Rory's latest question, a subtle indication of her discomfort that went unnoticed by the younger Gilmore. He too felt his muscles tense in unease and the familiar warmth of a blush crept onto his cheeks, but he resisted the urge to storm the kitchen, tuck Rory under his arm and frog-march her to the nearest kindergarten. She was growing up far too quickly for his liking.

Despite his discomfort, he reminded himself that if he was going to be any kind of father figure in her life, he needed to weather the tough conversations as well as the easy ones.

Lorelai's steady voice broke the silence, patience evident in her tone as she answered, "No sweetie. We're definitely not trying to have a baby. We've only been together for a few months so it's much too early for us to be thinking about that."

Rory nodded slowly, the cogs clearly still turning in her head.

"But do you…" she began uncomfortably. "I mean, you said you don't believe in waiting until marriage. So do you…do you…er… _you know_?"

The young girl's cheeks flamed red and she instantly began fidgeting with her cutlery. Luke too felt the wave of awkwardness and embarrassment rush over him, but he fought the urge to sink through the floor for Lorelai's sake. Knowing the importance she placed on being truthful with Rory, he braced himself for the impending mortification.

"We do, yes," Lorelai affirmed quietly.

Rory fiddled with the frayed edge of the tablecloth for a moment, avoiding eye contact as she processed her mother's words. Finally, she looked up, her brow furrowed in thought.

"So if you're not trying to have a baby, then it's like Mrs. Fletcher said. It's because you love each other, right?"

Lorelai felt her mouth go dry, her brain whirring at warp speed as she frantically tried to conjure an appropriate response that wouldn't undo all of her handiwork so far.

 _Actually honey, Luke and I haven't said those three important words yet, so according to your teacher's definition, Mommy's apparently a dirty hussy who should really keep her legs closed._

"Er…" Lorelai began unsuccessfully, her beloved words failing her.

"Mom?"

"Luke and I, we're…well, we're not anywhere near baby stage but we're in a really trusting and secure relationship and we care about each other very much."

"And you love each other?" Rory pressed.

"We…ah…" Lorelai stuttered, grappling for the words that eluded her. "I mean, Haddaway said it best. ' _What is love?_ ' and all that jazz. Great song by the way. Granted, the video clip is kind of cheesy but it's not every day you see a Trinidadian-German Eurodance artist on the charts…"

Rory merely looked on in bewilderment, trying hard to grasp what her mother was rambling about all of a sudden.

"It's a pity it was a one-hit-wonder really. _Life_ made the top 50 but it really didn't have the same wow factor and quite frankly…"

Lorelai's unrelenting stream of gabble continued until she was promptly cut off by Luke's index finger pressing against her mouth in an attempt to silence her. The hand resting atop her shoulder told her he had taken up position behind her chair, and she welcomed his calming influence as her heart raced at a mile a minute.

"Rory," Luke began, his voice soft and low. "Your mom's right. A baby definitely isn't on the radar for us at the moment, and we do care about each other a lot." Clearing his throat, he added a little awkwardly, "I'm er…not so good with words like your mom is kiddo."

Looking down at his shoes momentarily, Luke forced himself to lift his chin once again and deliver the words with the unwavering conviction he felt deep in his gut. Of all he ways he'd envisioned saying them, this had certainly not been a scenario he'd played out in his head. Somehow though, he knew it was right. Shifting his body so he faced Lorelai, he settled his eyes on hers and cleared his throat.

 _Here goes nothing Danes._

"The answer is yes, Rory. I love your mom very much."

-o-

He'd done it.

He'd officially dropped the L-bomb, and in doing so, sent Lorelai gasping for air in the resulting mushroom cloud.

On some level of consciousness, she realized she must have been shocked, because her mouth dropped open like one of those sideshow-alley clowns, her head moving back and forth between Luke and Rory as she grappled to absorb the information.

The blood rushed in her ears and it felt like someone had turned the volume down on everything else around her, because she didn't catch a word of the conversation that followed.

Finally, she vaguely registered the words 'late for school' and Rory's resulting look of panic as she heeded Luke's reminder and scurried from her chair to get ready.

Luke took a moment to stack the used plates and cutlery, before casually turning to Lorelai and nudging her gaping jaw closed. He bent to press a kiss to her forehead and said softly, "Why don't you go on up and take a shower. I'll help Rory get her bag together and start the search for her school shoes."

When she didn't seem capable of moving, he carefully pulled her upright and gave her a gentle push toward the stairs, her feet eventually cottoning on and propelling her forward.

Now she sat motionless on the lid of the toilet, staring blankly at the water gushing from the shower head.

 _Had that really just happened? And what did it_ mean _? Didn't he know she was only on her second coffee of the day? You'd at least think he'd give a girl a fighting chance and wait for cup five, right?_

What really threw her for a loop was Luke's nonchalance. _You don't just tell a woman you love her and then turn your attention to the dishes or the kid's morning routine_ , she rationalized hotly. _Didn't he even stop to consider that I might have something to say?_

She didn't, she realized, but that was beside the point.

 _And what gave him the right to go throwing around declarations like that anyway?_

She absently comprehended the need to breathe, and cataloged her current state of being.

Lungs? Not so big on taking in oxygen.

Head? Foggy as all hell.

Hands? A little shaky.

Legs? Completely immobile.

Drawing in a gulp of the steamy bathroom air, she willed her racing heart to calm and tried to arrange her thoughts in some kind of order.

Luke had said he loved her. Declared it in front of her daughter.

She didn't need to question whether he'd meant it. The sincerity in his eyes had confirmed that one. But how did _she_ feel about it?

Confused, for starters. Somewhat panicked. And surprised, that was for sure. Never in a million years would she have guessed when waking up that morning what was to come at breakfast time.

But there was something else too, she noted, struggling to put her finger on it. Something that felt strangely like lightheadedness combined with exhilaration.

 _Jesus, Joseph and Mary…was she seriously_ giddy _?_

One thing she did know for sure was that she wasn't ready to say it back. _And_ o _h God, what if he was expecting her to?_

She didn't have time to contemplate the thought further or even consider making a hasty exit out the window when there was a knock at the door, prompting a flutter of both alarm and affection in her stomach.

"Lorelai? Can I come in?" he called softly.

When she didn't react immediately, Luke persisted, calling her name once again. Despite her panicked state, she tried to verbalize that the door was unlocked, but found her vocal chords had gone on some kind of unprecedented hiatus.

Her silence didn't seem to deter him and he twisted the door knob, poking his head through the opening hesitantly.

"Lorelai?"

His eyes first went to the shower, and it took him a second to realize she wasn't there and locate her seated on the toilet lid. Locking eyes with her, he moved forward, crouching down on the tiles at her feet. He instinctively brushed her hair back out of her eyes and took in her motionless frame. It wasn't difficult to see the emotions warring behind her eyes and he knew she was in no state to have a proper discussion.

"Hey," he whispered softly.

When she looked as if she might say something, he pressed his index finger to her lips gently and said, 'Ssssh."

She eyed him questioningly, knowing that in all honesty, the most she could have mustered was a handful of jumbled sounds and nothing that even remotely resembled words.

"I'm going to say something and I just want you to listen, okay? No talking," Luke instructed. "And no bolting," he added with a stern glare, squeezing her knee and keeping his finger pressed against her lips. At her slight nod, he went on.

"What I said down there…I want you to know, it wasn't just to placate Rory. I meant it. I love you Lorelai Gilmore. I'm _in_ love with you." While his tone had its usual gruff and matter-of-fact quality, a slight smile tugged at his lips.

"I love you and I love Rory, and I'm all in for this…this…whatever this thing is we're doing."

A noise escaped her throat involuntarily at his words – something between a squeak and a whimper. His hands remained firmly in place and she resisted the equal urges to either press a soft kiss to the pad of his finger or bat it away.

"This doesn't change anything, okay?" he stressed, staring her in the eye. "We're going great and I don't want this to send you running for the hills."

She looked like she might pass out, so he took her hand firmly in his and kissed her knuckles.

"I don't want to put any pressure on you, so this is me, telling you that I am not expecting you to say it back. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever if you don't want to.

"I didn't plan on telling you this morning. It just kind of felt right when the conversation came up. I mean, I've known for a little while, but I also know I was caught up with the idea of us being together long before you ever warmed to it, so I've had a bit more time to get my head around everything."

She swallowed, unable to draw her eyes away from his.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, please don't freak out. Or think that I'm asking more of you. I'm not expecting you to feel the same way. You and your miniature clone downstairs are just…you're everything to me, you know? And I'll take what I can get. Whatever you can give me, I'll take and it will be enough for me. Do you understand?"

He said the words with such conviction that Lorelai's heart seized in her chest, and she fought to swallow the ball that had formed in her throat. Luke cupped her face in his hands, breathing a sigh of relief when she cocked her head so her cheek nuzzled against his palm.

"Maybe one day you might decide you feel the same about me too, and I swear to God Lorelai, I'd be the happiest guy alive. But for now, I don't want you to say anything, okay? I don't want you to be under any obligation or pressure, because I know you're not ready. I want you to get up and go about your day like you would any other, and I'll bring some burgers by after work tonight; we'll watch some vomit-inducing chick flick as usual that makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a fork; you'll both be royal pains in the ass and curl up in my shirts, and it will be like it always is – just you and me and Rory living our lives. Nothing changes, yeah? So I'll say it one last time now, and I promise I won't say it again until you're ready…. _if_ you're ever ready. I love you Lorelai Gilmore; I'll love you 'til the day I die."

Then, smiling that sexy smile, he kissed her, propelled her toward the shower and set off to find Rory's missing school shoes.

-o-

Standing at the front desk of the inn one hour later, the momentary stillness surrounding Lorelai was cut short by one eternally bad-tempered Frenchman.

"Lorelaiiii," Michel whined, coming to a stop beside her.

Taking in his irritated expression, she sighed and asked resignedly, "What is it this time Michel? Did Cher cancel her world tour?"

"Cher is touring?" he yelped, his demeanor suddenly brightening.

Her pointed look was enough to answer his question and he scowled at her petulantly.

"We have been over this before. Do not tease me Lorelai. Anything involving Cher, Liza, Elton or Bette is not a joking matter."

"Hey, I can't help it if you fall for it every time," she smirked, taking delight in his frustrated huff. He glared at her mutinously before continuing on with his diatribe.

"That insipid handyman, Peter, has failed to arrive as scheduled again. I called him several times last week and he promised he would be here by Friday, which, of course, did not happen. We have a family checking into room 11 this afternoon and I am not convinced they will appreciate having a door with no handle," he sniffed.

"Pete definitely can't make it before check-in today?" Lorelai queried.

"I would know if he bothered to answer his phone."

"Okay, well I'll call Luke after he's finished with the breakfast rush and ask him to drop by and take care of it. You leave a message with Pete and tell him he's off the hook."

Admiring his nails as if he could care less about the conversation at hand, Michel adopted his usual air of disdain and asked snidely, "Does the bearded lumberjack you deign to call a boyfriend have the necessary qualifications to do the job or should I have the ambulance on speed dial in case he glues his hand to the door?"

Long accustomed to his snooty manner, Lorelai simply turned her attention back to the reservations booklet in front of her and replied absently, "Only a diploma in screwing in light bulbs unfortunately. But given that 'bearded lumberjack' is working for the grand total of squat diddly and will be saving our bacon, I think I'll take my chances with the PVA. Besides, it gives me a chance to check out his cute butt," she added with a mischievous wink.

"You disgust me," Michel drawled. "Perhaps you should introduce this _Luke_ to the concept of a razor. That beard is more unkempt than Courtney Love after a night at the MTV awards."

"Newsflash: Not all of us like our men clean-shaven and in hot pants Michel. Although, I gotta say, now I think about it, it does present a rather intriguing visual."

Scrutinizing Lorelai's features as she spoke, Michel narrowed his eyes after a moment and said, "Lorelai, what on Earth is happening to your face?"

"For the millionth time Michel; I will not help you campaign for the FDA to approve botox injections," she barked. "Quit trying to convince me my wrinkles are on par with Jack Nicholson's."

"No, really; I am serious. Your cheeks are pink," he insisted. "And your face. There is something different. How very peculiar."

Suddenly self-conscious, Lorelai promptly moved her hands over her cheeks and chin in an attempt to identify anything out of the ordinary. "What? Have I got something on it?" she asked.

"No, I simply said you should make the mountain man familiar with a razor and it happened. Your mouth kind of twitched at the sides. Look! There it is again!"

"Haven't you got anything better to do with your time?" she sighed. "Like, I don't know, actually _working_?"

"Did something happen with you and the lumberjack?" he asked eagerly, desperate to get the scoop first – chiefly for the opportunity it provided to gloat in front of Sookie. He lowered his hands to the desk and leaned in conspiratorially.

"No, it didn't. What the hell are you yammering about?"

"Lorelaiiii, you are lying to me," he wheedled.

"And you're deluded. Michel, be a good boy and stay right there while I back away slowly and call the nice men in the white coats."

"Luke," he tested.

"Huh?"

"Luke," he repeated, looking triumphant when her face reacted each time he uttered the name.

"Michel, what are you…"

"Luke," he interrupted, his expression positively gleeful. "Look at you! You cannot help blushing every time I say the diner man's name. Something happened with him and I want to know what!"

"Hey Michel?"

"Yes," he replied keenly.

"Go staple something to your face."

He glowered at her, preparing to renew his quest for information when Mia entered the foyer.

Forgoing the usual morning greetings, he hurried to his boss' side and sulked, "Mia, tell her to spill the beans."

"You want to move to Queens?" she asked in bewilderment, struggling as she often did to understand his thick accent.

Lorelai couldn't help laughing at the sour look on Michel's face. "No! I said 'tell her to spill the beans'."

"Oh, the Kellers are in room 19?"

"No, I said…" he began, but Mia promptly cut him off.

She gave him a reassuring pat on the back and said, "Why don't you go ahead and check that the maids have finished making the room up dear?"

Lorelai couldn't help laughing as Michel stormed off, his expression indignant.

"So young lady…what's the big secret?" Mia inquired, surveying her with interest.

"You understood him?" Lorelai snickered, clearly surprised.

"I caught it the second time around, but I must confess I thought my odds of coaxing any information out of you were rather better one-on-one."

"Mia!" Lorelai scolded half-heartedly. She allowed her eyes to drop back to the reservations book as she stressed, "There's nothing to tell."

"Then you won't mind taking a walk with me around the grounds then," Mia replied knowingly, offering up her arm in invitation.

Lorelai succumbed easily enough, placing the 'away' sign and the guest bell on the desk before grabbing her coat and following Mia out the front door.

Despite the late October chill, the morning was bright and sunny, a light breeze swaying the last of the season's dahlias from side to side.

They walked arm in arm for a minute or two, taking in the flower beds and chatting idly. Mia told Lorelai of her plans to revive the old stable on the grounds and they headed down the sloping lawns, envisioning what it would be like having horses on the premises.

Finally, Mia circled back around to the original subject at hand, asking casually, "So, I realize there's nothing to tell, but would this nothingness that's not worth telling happen to revolve around a certain diner owner? Or a blue-eyed mini-me?"

Lorelai smiled abashedly, rolling her eyes.

"Geez, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition? Between you and Michel, I can't get a break."

"If you keep holding out on us, I'm not above getting Sookie on board too," she threatened teasingly.

"Luke told me he loved me," Lorelai blurted, the words spilling from her lips more easily than she'd anticipated. "This morning. Over breakfast."

Mia stopped walking just long enough to bestow Lorelai with a broad smile, before resuming her pace and squeezing Lorelai's arm gently.

"That's wonderful sweetheart. And you said?"

"Ummm…nothing," Lorelai confessed sheepishly.

"Nothing?"

"He kind of caught me by surprise."

"Uh huh," Mia responded evenly, and Lorelai was grateful for the lack of judgement.

"He told me not to, you know, say anything back. He just said his piece and then told me we should go on as if nothing's changed."

Lorelai went on to explain the morning's events in more detail, finishing with Luke's insistence that there was no pressure for her to reciprocate.

"Oh sweetheart, that's quite a morning. How are you feeling? Have you thought about where you stand? Whether you're ready to say it back?"

Lorelai exhaled a breath slowly, running one hand through her loose curls.

"I panicked. When he said it, my head just started spinning," she began.

"Yet you're still in Connecticut," Mia remarked, one eyebrow raised. "You didn't run. That's got to count for something."

Lorelai smiled briefly in acknowledgment, nodding her head. "I don't…I don't know how I feel," she concluded with a strangled groan. "I mean, what we have is great, and there's this...I don't know…feeling, here," she explained, gesturing to her gut. "It's something kind of full and good," she ground out, struggling to accurately put her thoughts into words. "It's kind of like that warm and fuzzy feeling I have for Rory but different somehow. Every time I see him, it's there and it's good and it's exciting and it's terrifying all at the same time."

Mia smiled but refrained from commenting straight away.

"And when he stays over or we spend time together or he hangs out with Rory, it's amazing, you know? Waking up with him is just the best. I just…I guess I just never expected those words to come out of his mouth so soon. I mean, he _loves_ me. Me! Can you believe that?"

"I can indeed. And you feel happy about it?"

"I…I think so," Lorelai replied slowly, a touch of apprehension detectable in her tone. "That and about 300 other emotions. At first it scared the hell out of me but after he kind of took the pressure off, well, it wasn't quite so…daunting maybe? Just sort of nice in a way. Like there wasn't a right or wrong answer I had to give."

"He knows you well," Mia observed.

Lorelai simply nodded, and her heart did that strange little tap dance it always did when she thought about Luke.

"Do you see a future with Lucas?" Mia prompted. She already knew the answer but gathered Lorelai might need a helping hand coming to the same conclusion.

"I, ah…" she swallowed, unsure of how to respond. "I haven't really let myself think too far ahead in terms of marriage or anything big like that. We haven't even been together a year yet; I've just kind of taken it day by day so far. It really threw me when Rory started going on about babies this morning. Don't get me wrong – if I thought this was just a fling then there's no way I would have let Luke build such a close relationship with my kid or even stay over at the house. He's there more often than he's at his apartment these days and I don't see that changing anytime soon. Big stuff aside, all I know is I like having him by my side. It feels sort of…natural, I guess."

Their conversation came to a temporary standstill as they passed by the tennis courts and waved hello to a number of guests who were engaged in a less-than-competitive match. As soon as they were out of ear shot, Lorelai turned to Mia and said earnestly, "Mia? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course dear."

"How did you know that your husband was it for you? Like, at what point did you decide that you loved him?"

Mia chuckled, but Lorelai couldn't help noticing it lacked its usual mirth.

"I don't profess to be an expert on matters of the heart Lorelai, but I've been around long enough to know that we don't _decide_ to fall in love with someone. We can recognize we love them and decide to tell them that. We can choose to be with them, or marry them or even steer clear of them, but loving is governed by the heart, not the head and it's never a conscious decision. You can't just turn it on or off at will. Goodness knows, I spent the better part of two decades loving a man who couldn't tear himself away from the bottle long enough to give me the time of day."

Lorelai pulled up short, shocked by Mia's revelation. She knew the older woman had been left a widow before they'd met, but she suddenly realized she knew few details about Mia's husband or her life prior to meeting her. She chastised herself for having never thought to ask.

"He was an alcoholic?" she inquired quietly, her eyes settling on Mia's back as the woman continued walking ahead a few paces, before slowing to rest her arms on the wooden fence in front of them. "I had no idea."

Mia gazed out across the sprawling lawns, taking a moment to gather her thoughts in her typical calm manner.

"Stars Hollow might have its fair share of gossips, but they're also a fiercely loyal and protective bunch. I'm grateful for the compassion they showed my son and I in place of airing our business all over town," she said gently.

Lorelai had witnessed first-hand the respect the townsfolk held for Mia, and she could see how the kind-hearted woman would have been excused from making headlines in the daily gossip feed. She herself had never heard so much as a whisper regarding Mia's family difficulties.

"For the most part, it was hard to separate the person from the addiction," Mia confided, her back still turned. "It consumed him and no amount of love or labor could have changed that. Not that it stopped me from trying," she added wryly.

"I'm so sorry," Lorelai said softly, stepping forward to rest her palm against Mia's back.

"No matter," she replied, brandishing one hand lightly and adopting her usual cheery persona in an attempt to revert back to discussing Lorelai and Luke.

"You stayed with him?" Lorelai pressed, not allowing the older woman to move on so swiftly.

"I did. In hindsight, I ought to have left when John was born, but I must confess, I was rather blinded by the thought of what could have been. I always held out hope he would sober up, foolish as it was. It didn't matter how many times he hurt us, or caused a scene in front of the neighbors; I loved him dearly. Anyone else would have walked out years earlier, but I couldn't change what I felt for him. Rational or not, I loved him, and my head didn't get much of a say in the matter."

Taking a moment to process the information, Lorelai looked down at her shoes and scuffed one of them in the dirt. She watched as her toes struck a stone and it skimmed across the lawn.

"Sweetheart, the last thing I want to do is discourage you from going after the whole package, or make you think giving your heart to someone is too big of a gamble," Mia said softly. "Falling in love with Lucas will either happen or it won't happen, regardless of what your mind has to say on the subject. I suspect that if you take a closer look at that gut feeling of yours, you might find you already know the answer. I know that it can seem terrifying and there's no denying the sense of vulnerability that comes with it. But – if I may be so bold as to say it – you've got a wonderful man that would move heaven and Earth for you and you'd be mad to let fear get in the way if you find you feel the same way. Lucas is one of the most loyal, caring and genuine people I know, and I truly believe the two of you could have something spectacular if you let down your guard and let it happen."

"It petrifies me Mia," Lorelai confessed, not quite able to look her in the eye. "Every part of me adores him, but I'm scared of getting hurt. It feels so good every time we take a new step in our relationship, but with that comes this…I don't know…sense of dread. I mean, what if he changes his mind and leaves? I feel like I'm digging myself in so deep that I haven't got a hope of functioning without him. He's the person I rely on when the chips are down; he's the person that I laugh with and share my day with and hell, in some ways, even raise my kid with. The closer I get to him, the more scared I am of losing him."

"Sounds an awful lot like love to me," Mia said sagely, her voice soft. "Opening your heart to someone is a huge leap of faith sweetheart, I won't sugarcoat it. Sure, the risks are there, but the payoff can be unbelievable. And you've got to remember, Lucas has already taken the leap and put everything on the line by telling you how he feels. He's got a lot at stake too and I daresay would be just as heartbroken if you were to break up. That in itself should tell you he's going to do everything he can to make this work. It's just about putting your trust in him. He's never let you down before so it stands to reason that he's not likely to start now."

"I guess…" Lorelai agreed slowly, feeling the butterflies flutter incessantly in her stomach. She couldn't stop the nervous half-smile from taking over her lips.

"Besides, I hate to break it to you dear, but regardless of whether you admit it to yourself or not, if deep down, you really do love him, then you're already in hook, line and sinker."

And that, Lorelai realized with a jolt, was the problem.

-o-


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's note:** Hi guys, welcome to chapter 21! While our beloved, flannel-clad Mr Fix It is usually too busy taking care of everyone else, sometimes, even he needs a helping hand and I for one think Lorelai is the right girl for the job!

I've put a lot of heart and soul into this chapter so reviews would mean the world to me! I hope you like it :)

 **Warning:** This chapter contains mature content so read at your own risk!

 **Story recap:** Last chapter, Luke dropped the L-bomb, leaving Lorelai spinning. Knowing she wasn't ready to say it back, he withdrew any hint of pressure, telling her that he wasn't expecting to hear it from her. He also committed to only saying it again if/when she was ready. Lorelai was able to talk things over with Mia, who rightly pointed out that falling in love was entirely outside the realm of control. It also dawned on Lorelai that perhaps that very thing might have happened without her noticing…

-o-

"Coffee, coffee, coffee! Make it fast, make it snappy, make it bigger than Babs Streisand's honker. Move it Burger Boy; I'm on the clock!"

Reaching beneath the counter for a to-go cup, Luke eyed the whirlwind that was his girlfriend and intoned dryly, "Where's the fire?"

"I've got to be at Miss Patty's in T-minus…three minutes," she concluded with a nod, having paused to check her watch.

"Pick-up duty?"

"Yep, the ankle-biter's just about to finish her lesson."

"You know, I can have you out the door much quicker if you go for a nice, healthy bottle of water instead," he pointed out hopefully, watching as she settled herself on her usual stool.

"Nice try wise guy, but I like my beverages like I like my men – hot, steamy and highly caffeinated. Chop, chop!"

Picking up the pot and beginning to pour, he frowned, clarifying, "You like your men highly caffeinated?"

"Ah, you got me," she conceded. "Just the coffee. But I wouldn't knock back an Irish variety of either."

"No coffee for you," he threatened, shooting her a petulant glare.

"I mean, I wouldn't knock back an Irishman if I didn't already _have_ a hot, sexy all-American man at my disposal, which, of course, I do," she backtracked with a flirty smile, desperate for her beloved brew.

"Getting warmer," he growled, still refraining from handing over the coveted beverage.

"Lukey baby, you're the manliest man to ever walk the planet and I've only got eyes for you," she gushed, laying it on thick and batting her eyelashes coquettishly.

"Better," he grunted, fastening the lid in place and sliding the cup toward her. "Feel free to lose the patronizing tone next time."

"You got it doll. Perfect that Irish brogue of yours and I'll do anything you want," she said with a wink.

Reveling in the scowl that graced his features, she took a deep gulp of the liquid gold and hastily dug in her wallet for change. As usual, he waved her off, but she insisted on paying so he wordlessly handed over two muffins on the house.

"While I remember, Rory's dance recital is coming up. Patty says my baby's about as coordinated as Bambi on ice skates, bless her, but she's bound to look super cute and I'm sure she'd love to have you there. Wanna come and cheer her on with me?"

"Sure," he shrugged, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Name the day and I'm there."

"I think it's next Thursday," she said, scrunching up her face as she tried to work out what day the recital fell on without having a calendar in front of her. "Anyway, it's definitely the thirtieth of November so whatever week night that falls on next week."

His heart thudded in his chest at the mention of the familiar date, and when he found his voice, he managed to croak out, "Er…the thirtieth?" At her nod, he added, "That er…that day's not so good for me, sorry. I don't think I'll be able to make it."

He busied himself pulling slips from the till, grateful for the excuse to direct his eyes anywhere but at her.

"You have a shift that night?" she asked.

"Not exactly," he mumbled, his eyes still downcast. "Just a thing, you know, had it in the diary for a while now. It's out of town so…" he trailed off, hoping she'd drop it.

"Oh, I didn't know you were going to be away. Where are you off to?" she asked curiously, and he could tell she was just being inquisitive as opposed to nosy.

Reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, he answered vaguely, "Nowhere special. Just out west."

"Right," she said slowly, registering his reluctance to provide any further detail.

He felt his gut twist uncomfortably when he looked up and caught the flash of disappointment in her eyes. She recovered quickly and looked as though she might say more, but promptly stopped when he pointed to the clock and said, "Don't you need to collect Rory?"

Lorelai gasped, realizing he was right and hastily sliding from her stool. She slung her handbag over one shoulder, grabbed her coffee cup in one hand and legged it for the door, calling out her hurried goodbyes as she headed for the dance studio.

-o-

Luke felt the colossal weight pressing down against his chest before he opened his eyes. For a moment, he laid paralyzed, his body rigid and his lungs seemingly unable to draw breath in the dark bedroom.

The feeling wasn't foreign to him. The wave of irrepressible anguish reared its ugly head each cold and bitter November and it took every ounce of strength he possessed to ride it out; to stop himself from crumbling into a million tiny pieces and to make it through the one day that broke him like no other: His dark day.

For a moment, he listened to the steady rhythm of Lorelai's breathing, his girlfriend completely oblivious to the ache in his chest as she slept peacefully. He tempered down the urge to trail his finger across the porcelain skin of her jaw, instead forcing himself to turn away from her. It was better this way.

Fighting to draw a few steadying breaths, he quietly slipped from the bed, padding across the darkened room and down the stairs to the Crap Shack's kitchen. He didn't need to look at the calendar on the refrigerator to register the date. November 30. It was forever burned into his brain.

Making sure to be quiet so as not to wake Rory, Luke filled the kettle and set it up to boil. He drew a mug from the cupboard and dropped a teabag into it, the familiar routine doing little to distract him from his thoughts, but at least giving him something to do with his restless hands. After pouring the boiling water into the mug, he set it aside and rested his weight against the counter top, absently directing his gaze out over the yard despite the pre-dawn darkness that blanketed the town.

He didn't know how long he'd been there when he registered rustling behind him, and he didn't bother to turn at the sound. He already knew who it was.

"Luke?" came Lorelai's sleep-filled voice, a touch of concern lacing her words.

She tightened the belt of her robe against the morning chill and moved across the room to rest her palm against his back. "You okay babe?"

Ignoring her question, he said a little more gruffly than intended, "What are you doing awake?"

She faltered for only a second, her expression quizzical as she responded, "I was going to ask you the same question. It's 4am."

When he didn't answer immediately, she added softly, "I woke up and you weren't there. The sheets were cold. I thought you might have been sick or something."

"I'm fine," he grunted, his gaze never moving from the window.

"How long have you been down here?"

He shrugged, the muscle twitching in his jaw. His untouched tea sat beside him, now cold.

"Hon?" she ventured again gently.

"I said I was fine," he snapped, and despite not witnessing her flinch, he immediately regretted the harshness of his tone. "Go back to bed Lorelai," he sighed.

Her hand dropped from his back but she made no effort to move for a few moments, as if she was contemplating whether it was best to leave or stay. Finally, she retreated, feeling both a little confused and hurt as she eyed his solid frame from the kitchen doorway. His hands still rested against the counter top and she noticed his shoulders were taut with tension.

Turning on her heel, she murmured quietly, "I'm here if you need me," before slinking back toward the stairs.

He wanted to go after her, but that paralysing force held him in place once more, and the guilt merely amplified the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He sighed heavily, and after a further 10 minutes of staring off into the abyss, he poured the tea down the sink.

When Lorelai woke again some time later, Luke was gone. He hadn't bothered to set the coffee to brew, and she took that as an indication that he'd left hours prior. She racked her brain for anything she may have inadvertently said or done to prompt his sullen mood, but for the life of her, she couldn't come up with a plausible explanation. They'd gone to bed on good terms and his atypical behavior had seemingly come out of nowhere.

Biting her lip apprehensively, she eyed her watch and concluded she would have to put her worries aside for now. She needed to get Rory up and ready for school and finalize her costume for the evening's recital.

After dropping Rory off at her classroom, Lorelai hesitated for a moment, debating whether to head directly to the inn or swing past the diner. On one hand, she didn't care to see him; if he was just in a mood, then Luke could damn well come to find _her_ and apologize. On the other hand, she longed to know the reason for his surlier-than-usual temperament. Her track record of disastrous relationships suggested it may well have been her fault in some way and if that was the case, she was desperate to fix it. Their relationship was too important not to.

Reasoning that she'd never get any work done while it sat unresolved, she strode toward the diner, intent on getting answers. When the bells announced her arrival, Luke's blue eyes locked with hers, his face expressionless. Uncertain, Lorelai approached the counter and murmured a shy "hi" as she pulled up a stool. He nodded in return and while it looked as though he wanted to say something, he seemed to think better of it, settling for a mumbled, "Coffee?"

Lorelai nodded meekly, breathing a sigh of relief when she noticed the town's gossips were nowhere to be seen. In fact, the diner was surprisingly deserted for a weekday morning, and she briefly wondered if it had anything to do with the faint smell of burnt food hanging in the air.

Before she could formulate a sentence, Kirk interrupted her thought process, commanding Luke's attention.

"As I was saying before Lorelai so rudely interrupted, what do you think is a more impressive mode of transport on a date? A pushbike or a unicycle?" he asked seriously.

"And I told you we're not having this conversation," Luke barked, sliding a steaming mug in front of his girlfriend without so much as an ounce of banter.

Accustomed to the man's gruff manner, Kirk pressed on regardless. "I mean, a pushbike allows both of us to get to our destination efficiently, but I feel my unicycle skills are so advanced that they're bound to charm her into accepting a second date."

"I'm amazed there's a first," Luke muttered.

"So you think I should go with the unicycle?" Kirk quizzed.

"I think you should quit bombarding me with pointless questions."

"Luke, this could be the most important evening of my life," Kirk argued, taking a bite of his charred excuse for a tuna melt. "I cannot afford to take this decision lightly."

"Ever heard of a car?"

"My mother says I'm not allowed to participate in adult activities like getting my license until I can go a whole year without wetting the bed," Kirk sighed. "I was doing so well until I watched The Smurfs last week and had a night terror."

Luke paused wiping down the counter momentarily at Kirk's admission, but shook it off a moment later, continuing on with his task.

"Maybe I should just have my mother drive us," Kirk suggested, his expression thoughtful.

"'Cos that won't kill the mood at _all_."

Missing the blatant sarcasm, Kirk nodded. "I think you're right. In any case, my lycra pants can get very uncomfortable after a few hours so it's probably best I bypass the cycling."

When Luke didn't reply, Kirk asked, "So where do you think I should I take her?"

The simple question prompted a vein to bulge in Luke's forehead and Lorelai could see his temper rising even quicker than usual when it came to Kirk. There was something definitely off with him today, and the idea was further reinforced by the uncharacteristically sub-par coffee filling her mug.

"For the last time Kirk, I'm not working today," he growled. "Quit bugging me."

"The fact you're standing right in front of me would suggest otherwise."

"I mean it. I'm only here because Caesar couldn't do the morning shift. I'm setting up, I'm serving breakfast and I'm leaving, you got it?" he snapped, turning to brew a fresh pot of coffee.

Looking desperate, Kirk begged, "But Luke, I can't do this without your help. What if I mess it up and my mother says I can never date again?"

"Then you'll be doing the broader female population a favor," Luke deadpanned.

"I'm being serious."

"What makes you think I'm not?"

"Please Luke. I just need an idea. Some kind of outing or event."

"You know this god damn town has at least seven million events every week, right? Pick one of those. Take her to the art exhibition at the high school that Taylor's been ramming down everyone's throats for the last month."

"I'm not allowed to go within 100 feet of a school," Kirk countered, his face solemn.

"You're _what_?" Luke began incredulously, but then thought better of it. "You know what, I don't care. Sort your own date out. You're a big boy." He jammed the porta filter into place on the coffee machine with more force than was necessary and stomped off to grab a fresh supply of coffee beans from the store room.

When he returned, Kirk resumed his questioning again immediately, seemingly oblivious to Luke's growing frustration.

"Luke, what should I…?" he began, but was promptly cut off by Luke slamming the bag of coffee beans down on the counter top. The packaging split open, sending beans flying in all directions.

"Enough Kirk!" Luke raged. "We're done here, okay? If you're that desperate, go and ask somebody else."

"But Luke, you're my best friend. I…"

"I'm not your best friend," Luke thundered. "Hell, we're not friends at all. You come to my diner every day and I serve you breakfast. That makes me your food supplier, not your friend. Do you understand?"

"But…" Kirk sputtered, looking crestfallen.

"If I'm the best you've got then you're leading a pretty pathetic existence. You hear me? You're pathetic! Get out, Kirk! I mean it. Get out and get a life while you're at it. Now," he threatened, his eyes wide and his chest heaving.

Lorelai watched on in dismay, shocked by Luke's outburst and uncharacteristic callousness. He'd never hidden his exasperation when it came to Kirk, but she knew overall, he showed him more kindness than almost anybody. Now though, there was no mistaking the spite in his tone and her heart broke at the sight of Kirk's despondent face.

"Kirk," she began. "He didn't mean…"

"It's okay Lorelai. I'm going now," he responded, swallowing thickly as he stepped down from his stool. "I know when I'm not wanted."

When she opened her mouth to continue, Luke interjected with a gruff, "Let him go."

Scrambling to help Kirk pick up his My Little Pony satchel from the floor, Lorelai offered him an apologetic look and a reassuring squeeze of his arm as he left the diner, his shoulders slumped.

Despite wanting nothing more than to unleash her fury and give Luke a piece of her mind, Lorelai reasoned that the handful of remaining diner patrons had already received a lot more than the breakfast they'd bargained for. The argument would be best saved for later.

Instead, she bent to pick up some of the coffee beans scattered across the floor, stiffening when Luke barked irritably, "Leave it."

Almost on cue, Taylor entered the diner, a clipboard clutched to his chest and a smug look on his face. Oblivious to tense atmosphere, he announced, "Ah Luke, I'm glad I caught you. I met with the Town Beautification Committee yesterday and it has come to our attention that the _Williams Hardware_ sign hanging above your establishment violates statute 412, clause 10 of the Town Beautification Charter. It gives the false impression that you are, in fact, operating a hardware store as opposed to a diner, which quite frankly is…"

He didn't get a chance to finish his spiel before the dancing pork chop sign barreled toward his head at speed.

-o-

Luke's hands were clenched tight against the steering wheel, his white knuckles afforded no respite despite having been in the same position for the better part of three hours.

He barely registered the dense forest lining the roadside as he pressed down on the gas pedal, intent on reaching his destination as soon as possible. He knew spending time at the cabin would do little to ease the sting in his chest, but years of experience had taught him it was better than staying in Stars Hollow.

At the cabin it was just him, a lake and trees stretching for as far as the eye could see. Maybe a few squirrels. There, he could crawl within himself and prevent the hurtful words from tumbling from his lips; stop the pain from exploding on everyone and everything around him when it inevitably bubbled to the surface.

He was convinced there was no remedy for the darkness that consumed him each year, but he'd shouldered the ache long enough to know that getting away was the only way of protecting others from the firing line. No one deserved to face his wrath.

He hated the alter-ego he involuntarily assumed one day each November; hated his dad for leaving too soon; hated himself for being too weak to forget.

Signaling right onto the dirt track, he wound his way through the canopy of green, thousands of pine needles dusting the cool ground and muting the sound of his tires. He pulled to a stop in the clearing, his hands maintaining their iron grip on the wheel as he took in the familiar surroundings. The earthy smell of pine and damp soil pervaded his senses, and for the briefest of moments, his lungs allowed him to draw in a full breath.

Luke remained in the truck for a few minutes, lowering his head until his forehead rested against the hard steering wheel. Once he worked up the energy to stand, he hauled himself from the vehicle, bypassing the cabin in favor of the wooden dock.

With December just around the corner, it wouldn't be long before the river was frozen solid. As it was, the cold temperatures limited the amount of animal life in sight, and Luke took the opportunity to soak in the stillness by the water.

He closed his eyes for a time, knowing that the second he examined his surroundings in more detail, the memories would come flooding back. Memories of a time when his greatest trial was attempting to identify which area of the river was laden with fish on any given day.

All in all, he knew he should be grateful for what had been, but he couldn't deny the touch of resentment he felt for the years of memory-making that had been prematurely snatched away by the cruel claws of time. His mother had been too young to die; too good and too full of vigor. Of that, he was sure.

While he missed her terribly, nothing rivalled the indescribable anguish of watching his father waste away to a shell of a man while Luke sat helpless and ineffectual. Every day, he'd silently begged for the universe, the gods, hell _anybody_ , to take him instead; to spare his father the pain of being fed through tubes and pumped with so many drugs that William dry wretched for hours on end and watched his remaining hair fall away in clumps.

For Luke, his exoneration had never come, and instead he had learned what it felt like to have his heart ripped from his chest; to be bloodied and maimed and incomplete and powerless, and worst of all, to have _lived_ , when he would have given anything to simply crumble away into oblivion.

More than anything, he hated that his father's suffering had been for naught. The rounds of chemotherapy had robbed William of all the qualities that made him _him_ , and when the light finally disappeared from his eyes in those final weeks, Luke knew the writing was on the wall. He didn't need the white coats to spell it out for him.

In the years since, he'd learnt to get by.

Eat. Work. Sleep. Repeat. The mantra had served him well, and for the better part of a decade, he'd operated on autopilot, running through the motions without truly attaching to anyone or anything. He knew most of the prying townsfolk believed Rachel to be the exception, and he'd done his best to convince himself of that. But if he dug into the deepest depths of his soul, even he could recognize he had purposefully chosen something – someone – that was eternally unavailable. Her lust for travel would forever keep her at arm's length.

Sitting on the dock, the icy wind bit at Luke's skin, turning his cheeks red and raw. More than two hours ticked by, and with just his army green jacket for warmth, he began to feel numb – something he was grateful for in place of the hurt. Normally, it was the beer that had that effect, but this year, he couldn't even summon the energy to pull his six-pack from the truck.

He could see his parents in every inch of his surroundings – his dad baiting a fishing hook or filleting the day's catch down by the water's edge; his mom pushing Liz on the old tire swing; all four of them crowded around the coffee table playing board games.

The memories were so raw that on this occasion, he found it easier not to venture inside the cabin, so he remained stationary, his legs dangling over the edge of the weathered dock.

He imagined what it would be like if his parents were still alive and could meet the two new loves of his life.

He had no doubt the girls would be welcomed with open arms. His mom would cook them the biggest feast known to man and Lorelai would ardently declare her intention to marry the legendary cherry pie as soon as food-human unions became legally recognized. She'd whine about being dragged on a fishing expedition, but eventually concede to coming out on the boat, no doubt driving him crazy as she sunbaked in a barely-there bikini. She'd banter and laugh, making wisecracks and delighting everyone around her.

Rory would steal his parents' hearts the second she walked through the door, and he imagined her blue eyes widening in a mixture of fear and excitement as he demonstrated launching from the makeshift tree swing into the river below. She'd revel in reading a book beneath the trees and toasting marshmallows over the fire pit he and his dad would spend the better part of an afternoon dotingly preparing.

The thought was bittersweet, and he felt a pang in his chest at the realization it would never become a reality.

As thoughts of Lorelai and Rory circled his mind, he was reminded of Lorelai's parting words as she'd stormed out of the diner earlier that day.

 _Come and find me when you're done being a jerk._

The heated statement reverberated around his head and he winced at the memory of the disbelief and anger in her eyes. He couldn't blame her for being pissed at him; he knew he'd been a royal ass and he deserved every bit of her wrath. He just hoped she'd forgive him.

Even worse, he'd seen the disappointment written on her face the week prior when he'd informed her he wouldn't be able to make Rory's dance recital. The decision reeked of Christopher, and he'd almost relented before remembering that he couldn't be trusted not to ruin Rory's special night. He'd never forgive himself if he exploded with the 11-year-old nearby.

Picking up a pebble that had somehow migrated onto the wooden platform, Luke flung it across the water, watching it skim the surface before finally sinking into the river's depths.

He sighed heavily, feeling his muscles quiver as they snapped out of their frozen state. Examining his hands, he noticed his fingers had turned a light shade of blue. Judging by the feel of his lips, he ascertained they weren't much better off.

He knew Rory would have finished school by now and would be bursting with nerves and excitement in the lead-up to her performance. Lorelai had taken the afternoon off work and he imagined her sitting down on Rory's bed and gently twisting the young girl's hair into some kind of intricate braid.

If he'd been in Stars Hollow, he would have prepared an afternoon snack at the diner and delivered it to them, making sure to slip in the occasional vegetable where years of experience had taught him it would go unnoticed. Lorelai would kiss him and wipe a smidgen of gloss from his lips with a mischievous smile and Rory would excitedly show him her costume and stress about remembering her steps.

His heart ached to be with them and he found himself questioning why he'd ever left town at all.

Letting out a ragged breath, he watched as it turned white in the cold air then dissolved.

"What the hell am I doing?" he muttered, eyeing his watch and mentally calculating how long it would take him to drive back to Stars Hollow. Springing to his feet and taking off at run, he lunged for the truck and pressed hard on the gas.

Come hell or high water, he'd show up for his girls.

-o-

His breath caught in his throat when his eyes landed on her back amidst the crowded room. Her curls hung loose around her shoulders and he itched to run his fingers through them.

As always, she was surrounded by people, not a seat to spare in the rows around her. Mia sat to her left and Luke watched as the older woman leaned over to whisper something in his girlfriend's ear.

Girlfriend. If he could still call her that.

Lorelai turned her head to respond and he caught a glimpse of her smile, noting that it didn't quite reach her eyes.

More than anything, he hated that his poor behavior was most likely the reason for that. He wanted nothing more than to go to her and beg for forgiveness; to see her smile with genuine warmth. But for now, it would have to wait. Tonight was about Rory.

The dance acts took to the stage one by one, Luke hardly paying any attention to the hordes of kids flouncing about in a sea of tulle. He'd arrived 20 minutes into the recital, grateful that Rory's performance was scheduled toward the end of the program. When her group finally took to the stage, his heart stopped in his chest. He watched her sauté, pirouette and prance around in her nymph-themed costume, her face serious as she focused on remembering which move came next. He couldn't help but smile softly when she missed a step and hurriedly tried to catch up, many of her fellow dancers also moving out of time.

He felt a lump burning in his throat as the performance came to an end, his eyes crinkling in a proud smile as he clapped and took in the sight of the little girl he adored bowing to the audience. Lorelai's cheers were by far the loudest, and she rose to her feet, whistling encouragingly.

He remained standing off to the side until the recital eventually drew to a close. The crowd thinned as the kids began to migrate from back stage, locating their parents, reveling in their praise and journeying home for the night. It took a few minutes for Rory to emerge, the young girl still dressed in her green costume as she ran directly into Lorelai's arms. She accepted Mia's hug as well, the 11-year-old all smiles and talking animatedly. While Luke couldn't hear the words tumbling from her lips from his position by the door, he could tell by the way she bounced on the balls of her feet that she was beyond excited.

Her piercing squeal alerted him to the fact that she'd spotted him across the room and Rory didn't hesitate for a second before setting off toward him and barreling into his awaiting arms.

"Luke! You came!" she exclaimed delightedly, her eyes wide and oh-so-blue.

"Couldn't miss seeing my ballerina perform now, could I?"

He pulled her into a tight hug and breathed in her sweet, childlike smell. He vaguely registered the scent of marshmallows in her shampoo and basked in having her warm, tiny body cradled against his chest.

Drawing back, he remained crouched in front of her as he took hold of both of her hands and lifted them, allowing him to take in her costume.

"Where's Rory and what have you done with her?" he croaked, a twinkle in his eye. "She's turned green!"

Rory giggled appreciatively, twirling in a circle to show off the back of her costume.

"Wow, your mom's outdone herself with this one, Squirt. Your costume looks great," he praised, fingering one of the long ribbons that cascaded from her headpiece.

Rory nodded, smoothing the tulle of her tutu and continuing to beam.

"She said you weren't coming but I told her you would," she explained chirpily.

"Well, I was out of town today so I told your mom I didn't think I'd be able to make it. But then I got to thinking that there was nothing more important than being right here with you, so I turned the truck around and high-tailed it here."

"I'm so glad you did," she gushed, wrapping her little arms around his neck once more and soaking in the soft kiss he pressed into her hair.

"Right back at you kid. You did great up there."

As he patted her back softly, her head still tucked against his neck, he looked up to see Lorelai staring at them from across the room. They locked gazes, but her expression remained neutral.

"I'm gonna go tell Mom you're here," Rory said excitedly, pulling back from his embrace. She'll be so happy to see you."

The young girl scampered back off toward her mother, oblivious to the tension between the two adults. He watched as she pointed him out, her eyes sparkling and her expression jubilant.

Both Lorelai and Mia smiled at Rory, and when Mia crouched down to say something to her, her head bobbed excitedly. Mia and Lorelai conversed back and forward for a few moments, before Lorelai finally nodded and bent to give her daughter a hug, settling her coat around her small frame. Returning to her full height, she clapped her hands on Rory's shoulders and though Luke was too far away to register the words, he'd witnessed that scene enough times before to know she was instructing Rory to behave.

As Mia and Rory made to leave, they wound their way over to his position by the door.

"Luke! Mia's going to take me for ice cream!" Rory said enthusiastically. "And I get to have a sleepover at her house with Antonia Banderas!"

"Oh, you girls," Mia chastised half-heartedly. "That poor dog is already confused enough without you going and giving her a new name."

Luke snorted, but squeezed Rory's upper arm affectionately as he said, "That sounds like fun, Squirt. Have a great time. Don't go too heavy on the colored sprinkles, yeah?"

She rolled her eyes playfully and happily accepted Mia's proffered hand.

"Night Luke, I'm so glad you came."

"My pleasure kid. Sweet dreams."

He offered Mia what he hoped was a grateful look and she touched his forearm lightly, her face a mixture of both sympathy and something stern that read a lot like 'sort it out'.

After watching them descend the steps of the dance studio, his eyes were drawn back to Lorelai, who still stood among the rows of chairs, waiting.

Exhaling, he shuffled over to her, his hands automatically falling to his pockets as he murmured a simple, "Hey."

"Hey," she returned, her eyes wary but never leaving his.

"You wanna…" he said softly, using one thumb to gesture toward the door.

"Yeah."

He nodded, and they made their way out into the square, both instinctively inching toward the blackened diner. Lorelai wrapped her arms around her body for warmth and bowed her head against the cold, and Luke had to resist the urge to pull her to him.

When they made it inside, they padded up the stairs wordlessly, Luke only bothering to flick on one light in the dark apartment. Lorelai stood by the door and eyed him cautiously as he made his way over to the kitchen bench.

Pulling out a mug, he pointed to it and asked, "You want?"

"No," came the soft reply, and Luke paused for a moment, his back turned as he contemplated how best to begin.

He didn't have to think long, when Lorelai broke the silence.

"Mia says I should cut you some slack today." At his grunt, she admitted quietly, "I'm not sure that I want to."

He simply nodded, turning to face her. "You're right. You shouldn't. I'm a jackass."

"Yes, you are," she agreed, her chin jutting out defiantly but her tone yielding.

"Lorelai…I…" he faltered, struggling to find the right words. "I'm sorry," he finished lamely.

She surveyed him for a moment before acknowledging, "I'm gonna need a little more than that. What's going on Luke?"

He cast his baseball cap aside, running one hand through his messy hair and leaving it sticking up at odd angles. She couldn't help but notice how disheveled he looked and she forced down the urge to go to him.

He spoke the words so quietly that she almost didn't catch them, and she noticed that he couldn't quite meet her eyes as they fell from his lips.

"Today's the anniversary of my dad's death."

"Oh," she said in realization, her lips parted as she processed the words. Of all the scenarios that had passed through her mind, that hadn't been one of them. She'd been prepared for battle but suddenly felt her anger melt away.

"I...I don't really like to talk about it. Every year, I get in this kind of funk and…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Oh, Luke," she sighed, taking one step closer to him. "I'm so sorry."

"Usually, I take off. Don't work. Don't talk to anyone. It's better that way. Then I can't hurt anybody."

When he lifted his head and locked eyes with her, she could see the mixture of pain and sincerity pooling in their depths. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he whispered truthfully.

"Oh hon, it's okay," she soothed, walking to him and cupping his cheek in her palm. "It's okay," she repeated, running her hand down his arm and drawing him to her.

He let part of his weight fall against her and held tight to her soft warmth as his face pressed into her neck, breathing her in.

Sensing that he was too drained to stand for much longer, Lorelai guided him to the bed and helped him to sit on the edge. She stood facing him, her hands buried in his hair as he allowed his head to come to rest against her stomach. His breath came in short puffs and he felt a slight fissure across his heart as he desperately clung to the simple comfort she offered.

"My dad would have kicked my ass if he saw how I behaved today," he croaked, his voice gravelly.

"Ssshhh," she soothed.

"I was horrible. I _am_ horrible," he corrected hoarsely.

"You are not horrible. You're grieving Luke. It's okay to be sad."

"I took it out on you."

"To be fair, I think Kirk copped the brunt of it."

He groaned against her, covering his eyes in shame.

"It was bad, wasn't it?" he asked, more a statement than a question.

"Don't worry. He'll come around. You know Kirk. He'll be back annoying you in no time."

"I need to apologize."

"I think he'd appreciate that," she said softly, stroking his hair as his eyes met hers. "He looks up to you, you know."

Luke brandished one hand self-deprecatingly, before bringing it back to rest against her hip. "He's just a kid, Lorelai. I beat up on a kid," he said remorsefully.

"He's not much younger than you, you know that. Just a bit of a late starter," she said, smiling softly. "But I agree; an apology would go a long way."

He nodded, utterly ashamed of himself. As an afterthought, he growled, "I'm not apologizing to Taylor."

"No, he had that one coming," she conceded, her lips quirking up at the sides.

"Did I mention how sorry I am? To you?"

"Let it go babe. It's forgotten."

"You didn't deserve to be snapped at," he pressed.

"No, but at least I understand why now. I wish you would have just talked to me. I could have tried to help."

"You would have, wouldn't you?" he said softly, more to himself than her. He caressed her hip lightly with his thumb, the repetitive motion somewhat soothing. "I might be beyond help," he admitted, his cheeks flushing pink.

"Then we're two peas in a pod," she smiled, doing her best to lighten the mood a little.

"God I love you," he breathed against the wool of her sweater. "I know I said I wouldn't say it again until we were both there but damn, if I don't." He hooked his thumb underneath the hem of her top and lifted it just enough to expose a strip of creamy, white skin. He pressed his lips to her flesh, then rested his cheek against her stomach. "I don't deserve you."

"I think you've got that around the wrong way," she countered. " _I_ don't deserve _you_. For all you do for Rory and I, I think I can manage a little snappiness once in a while."

"Rory," he repeated, his mind casting back to her ballet performance as he looked up at Lorelai. "How great was our girl tonight?" he added proudly, squeezing her waist.

She laughed and dropped down to the bed beside him, taking him with her as she flopped back on the mattress. "Pretty great," she agreed whole-heartedly. "The best."

"I thought my heart was going to beat right out of my chest when she pulled off the pirouette."

"All bets were off after last week's disastrous practice but she nailed it. I'm a proud mama."

"You should be," he whispered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. "You know, I never thought this day would get any easier, but seeing her tonight…"

"Kind of melts your heart, huh?" Lorelai answered knowingly, patting his chest.

He nodded, inching forward to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear.

"I'm an idiot. I can't believe I almost didn't show up for her big night. What kind of jerk does that?"

"You came through in the end," she pointed out, aware that he was already beating himself up enough for the both of them.

"I didn't want my crabbiness to ruin the night for her," he admitted truthfully, clearing his throat and letting his eyes drift down to the comforter. "This day…sometimes it's just…" he shook his head, unable to get the words out. "She's just so little and innocent. I never want to be the guy that can't keep his shit together in front of her, you know? I never want to hurt her, so I thought it might be better to stay away," he stressed, and his voice cracked a little.

"You were acting like a dad," she whispered, her fingers running across the stubble coating his jaw.

At his inquiring look, she elaborated, "You weren't going to show up because you were worried you'd upset her if the anniversary got too much to handle. And you didn't want to disappoint her by staying away and missing her performance, so you came and you held it together for her. All I see is a guy who was consistently putting a little girl's needs ahead of his own."

"But it shouldn't have even been a question," he growled, completely frustrated with himself. "I should be able to just deal with it and get on with life. Not lose my cool with you or Kirk or Rory or anyone else." His eyes pleading with her for answers, he added, "Why does this damn day get to me so much?"

"You're grieving babe," Lorelai murmured softly. "It's okay to miss him."

Luke shook his head, struggling to accept her words.

"But I was close with my mom and my grandma too. I don't turn into this…this…this loose cannon every time their anniversaries roll around."

Lorelai offered him a sad smile. "Well, you were just a kid when your mom passed. Your dad probably sheltered you from it as much as he could. And maybe this one's that much harder because you lost a lot of other things that day too."

Luke swallowed, recognizing what she meant without her needing to spell it out.

His dad had been his final link to their family. Liz had disappeared with Jess by that point; his mom and grandparents had long passed; he'd been forced to sell the family home; and any semblance of innocence he'd managed to hold onto had upped and left the second the medical bills and failing hardware store landed squarely on his shoulders.

Registering his inability to speak, Lorelai rubbed his arm soothingly and whispered, "I'm far from an expert, but I don't think there's much rhyme or reason to things when it comes to losing the people we love. As far as I can tell, there isn't a point when it magically becomes all better. You just have to do what you can to get by."

Luke nodded, his eyes stinging as he did his best to maintain his composure.

She found herself contemplating whispering those three all-important words for the first time, but predictably, they fell short on her lips. Taking in his despairing face, her gut told her this day – a day of unrelenting sadness – was not the right time anyway.

"I'm here for you," she said softly, her palm coming to rest against his chest as she took in his steady heartbeat. "Whatever you need. I'll always be here. Tell me what I can do."

He drank her in with adoring eyes, a traitorous sob caught in his throat.

"I'm scared to have you here. I don't want to hurt you again," he admitted, his voice raw.

"I can take it. We're in this together. But I can go if you want to be alone," she offered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

His eye contact never wavering, Luke shook his head and murmured, "I don't want to be alone Lorelai."

She could see the moisture he was fighting hard to repress pooling in his eyes, and she felt her own throat tighten in response. She cradled him to her, tucking his head against her chest in an act of reassurance and protectiveness, just as she so often did with her daughter. They laid there in comfortable silence for a long while, Lorelai tracing one finger lightly over his jaw, brow and unshaven cheeks, grateful to be able to offer comfort in his time of need.

Sometime later, she propped herself up on one elbow, taking in every inch of Luke's exhausted form stretched out against the mattress. When she made to get up, he eyed her questioningly, prompting her to run one hand through his hair and whisper, "Stay here."

Too sapped of energy to do anything but comply, he listened to the sounds of her footsteps as she ventured to the bathroom, the noise soon followed by running water.

She emerged almost 10 minutes later, her coat and boots discarded. "Come here, big guy," she coaxed gently, tugging on one of his hands.

"Too tired," he mumbled, using the benefit of his heavy form to stay firmly in place.

"You'll like it, I promise."

"Come back here and lie with me," he cajoled.

"Later. Right now I need you to get up." At his scowl she added, "If you're lucky, I might get naked."

Those proved to be the magic words, and Luke stumbled to his feet.

"Men," she muttered, dragging him toward the bathroom. She guided him to sit on the bath ledge and set about unzipping his jacket and unfastening the buttons on his flannel.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Curing polio and fighting crime. I'm taking care of you. What do you think I'm doing?"

Once she'd successfully wrestled the flannel off of him, she instructed, "Arms up."

He obliged, allowing her to draw his t-shirt over his head.

"Jeans next. Come on," She commanded, pulling him to his feet. Her hands slipped to his belt buckle and she worked on pulling it through the loops.

"You're making me take a chick bath?" he groaned, eyeing the full bath.

"No, I'm making you take a very manly bath. You'll come out smelling of axle grease, chewing tobacco and getting all mouthy with locker room talk."

At his frown, she pressed a kiss against his bare shoulder and said, "You haven't got anything even remotely resembling bubble bath in this apartment, so trust me when I say you're not gonna walk out of here smelling like a girl."

Satisfied, Luke allowed her to rid him of his remaining clothing.

"You're not coming in?" he asked in a mixture of surprise and disappointment, settling down into the bath.

"Nope, sit back and relax mister."

"I was promised nudity," he grumbled with a furrowed brow, drawing a smile and an eye roll from her.

Crouching down beside the bath, she grabbed the shampoo bottle and rolled up her sleeves. He took hold of her wrist, effectively stilling her movements, and begged, "Please come in."

Taking in his sad eyes, she found herself unable to deny him anything.

"Geez, and you say Rory and I are the only ones that know how to work a pout."

She quickly shucked her clothes, tapping his shoulder lightly to urge him forward in the tub.

"What are you doing?" he asked, expecting she'd either sit across from him or in his arms.

"I told you already; taking care of my man," she shrugged, settling in behind him.

"But I'll crush you," he countered dubiously, eyeing her petite frame.

"For someone who's got a lot on his mind, you're awfully argumentative tonight," she said with a winged eyebrow, pulling him back against her chest. "Tonight, you're going to be little spoon, okay? No arguments."

When the forceful tug around his waist did little to scoot him backward where she wanted him, he conceded and shifted back a tad of his own accord, careful not to rest too much of his weight on her.

She wriggled around a bit, weaving her hands around his torso from behind and finally exclaiming, "There, perfect fit."

He had to admit it felt good being enveloped in her arms, and he reveled in the feel of her soft breasts pressed against his back.

"Good?" she asked.

"Amazing," he murmured with a sigh, one of his hands interlocking with hers on his stomach.

After a few minutes, Lorelai began to knead the taut muscles in his shoulders, Luke moaning at the sensation as her hands and the warm water worked wonders on his aching body.

Inching him forward a little, she reached for the discarded shampoo bottle, squeezing some into her palm and proceeding to massage it into his scalp. She was pleased to see some of the tension in his back and shoulders had dissolved, and she pressed a tender kiss to the crook of his neck.

Taking hold of a plastic cup she'd settled on the bath's edge, Lorelai filled it with water, whispering, "Close your eyes."

He complied, letting her tilt his head back and rinse the shampoo from his hair gently. She then repeated the process with the conditioner, smiling at his willingness to let her take care of him.

When she couldn't see any sign of shower gel in the bathroom and noted the bar of soap was out of reach, she settled her sights back on the shampoo bottle, figuring it would work just as well. Squeezing a little onto her hands, she worked it into a lather before sliding her hands around to his chest and rubbing softly. His head fell back against her shoulder, his muscles lax as he gave into the sensations created by her nimble fingers.

When she worked her way down to the trail of hair beneath his navel, he let out a carnal growl and rasped, "You're playing a dangerous game Lorelai."

Inching her hand lower to work his thighs, she whispered in his ear, "I don't know what you're talking about."

She hadn't intended for things to get heated given the somber nature of the day, but as was often the case with the couple, their innate chemistry overruled rational thought.

She smirked when his hips bucked involuntarily; the movement assuring her he was fully on board with any extracurricular activities.

"Touch me," he begged, his voice husky. "Please, Lorelai."

The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine, and she obliged, taking him firmly in her hand and stroking with steady pressure.

"Oh, God," he choked out, his control fast unraveling.

"Do you like that?" she whispered, letting her warm breath tickle his ear.

"Yes," he affirmed with a strangled moan, his cock filling even further at her touch.

"Do you like it when I take care of you?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what I like?" she asked breathily, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"What?" he managed to hiss through gritted teeth.

"You. Inside me," she murmured boldly, prompting a jolt to pass through him as her tongue traced the shell of his ear.

He almost came then and there, but managed to resist, pulling her hand from him.

"Out. Now," he commanded, his eyes hooded.

She didn't need to be told twice, willingly following him out of the bath. The second her feet were planted on the tiled floor, his lips were on hers, devouring her as only he could.

She shivered as the cold air bit at her damp skin, but pulled him closer nonetheless, his leg resting between hers as she ground against him.

"Oh Jesus," he whispered, unabashed desire overtaking his entire body.

"Towel. Dry," she murmured senselessly, throwing her head back as his hand closed over one breast. He covered the other with his mouth, his tongue capturing the wayward water droplets and teasing her nipple.

"Luke," she whispered, holding his head to her and praying the exquisite torture would never end. He gave her other breast the same treatment before trailing his tongue between the valley of her breasts and up over her collar bone.

His fingers soon found her damp center and he stroked her folds lightly before gently easing one finger inside her. He moaned as she tightened around him, his cock swelling with awareness.

His tongue continued to trace patterns on her neck and he suckled deeply, too overcome to think about the mark it would leave.

"Luke, babe," she breathed, forcing herself to pull away.

He panted heavily, his eyes zeroing in on hers in an attempt to identify what was wrong.

"I'd rather not have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow if I can avoid it," she breathed, an impish grin forming on her lips.

"Right, sorry," he apologized, his head foggy with arousal.

"Towel," she said again, and this time he reached for one, wrapping it around her torso before grabbing a second for himself. She had barely started the drying process when his lips were upon hers again and he began walking her back into the bedroom. She tumbled onto the bed when the backs of her knees hit the mattress, Luke immediately covering her body with his own.

They kissed heatedly for a few minutes, Lorelai's hips arching up to meet his as they took their fill of one another. When they drew apart for much-needed oxygen, Lorelai pushed up against his chest and said, "Wait, let me up."

He eyed her curiously but obeyed, shifting his body off of hers.

"Lie down for me. On your back," she directed, her lips swollen from their kisses. He followed her instructions, his cock straining noticeably against the thin towel.

When she trailed one finger over the tented material, he choked out a guttural sound from the depths of his throat, unable to string together a full sentence. She unraveled the towel, using her thumb to collect the droplet of moisture that materialized on his tip. Tracing her fingers lightly across his abdomen, she offered him an affectionate smile before pressing tender kisses to his hard stomach.

When she lowered her lips to take him in her mouth, he said her name in warning, the deep timbre of his voice informing her he was already close to the brink.

"Sssh, it's okay," she soothed. "This is for you."

She ran her tongue the length of him, then took him in, sucking rhythmically. He fisted his hands in the sheets, letting out a few grunts of desperation. When he could take no more, he tugged at her shoulders forcefully, his breathing erratic.

"Need you," he begged hopelessly, his eyes imploring. Offering him an understanding nod, she dropped one last kiss to his tip and sat up, her knees resting on either side of his thighs. Luke reached up and pulled at the knot fastening her towel, his hands immediately seeking out her breasts as the towel fell to the bed.

"Lorelai," he breathed, squeezing and cupping and caressing softly.

"I'm here. I've got you," she murmured, dropping her head back as she gyrated against him.

Taking his shaft in hand, she ran her wet folds the length of him, before positioning him at her entrance. Rising to her knees, she eased herself onto him, both of them crying out as he filled her.

She began to move steadily, Luke's hands falling to her hips as he guided her rhythm and impaled her on him over and over. Her hair cascaded down her back as she rode him with abandon, giving herself over to him completely. Entranced by the gentle bounce of her breasts, Luke found his gaze glued to the soft peaks as she bobbed up and down atop him. She steadied herself against his chest, emitting whimpers of pleasure as they locked eyes, blue on blue.

Feeling his control begin to waver, Luke reached between them, massaging her clit in a desperate attempt to bring her closer to the edge. When he felt her tighten around him and saw her jaw go slack, he let go, coming inside her in hot spurts. They both rode out the waves of pleasure, their eyes fluttering closed and Lorelai collapsing against him.

They stayed wrapped in each other's embrace for a few minutes, Lorelai pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow as she clung tightly to him.

"You're right, spending this day with you is so much better than spending it alone," he growled, his breathing having finally returned to normal.

"Was this…okay?" she asked hesitantly, knowing they'd gotten a little carried away.

"Okay? It was perfect," he chuckled, and she was happy to hear the lightness in his tone.

"When I ran the bath, I didn't expect to…I mean, today of all days…I just wanted to do something nice for you."

"You did," he reassured her. "Thank you."

"I didn't mean to overstep," she said worriedly. "Today's about you and your dad and…"

He silenced her with a kiss. "Will you stop with the rambling already?"

She blushed, biting her lip and eyeing him in the darkened room.

"This is exactly what I needed. _You_ are exactly what I needed," he stressed, tightening his hold on her and relishing in the feel of her hands stroking his hair tenderly. "All day I could hardly get a breath in. It's like…suddenly I can breathe again."

"And here I was thinking good make-up sex was meant to take your breath _away_ ," she muttered, a teasing glint in her eye.

He laughed, squeezing her side as he said, "Our first make-up sex. I hadn't thought about that."

"Our first fight. Well, sort of fight. I don't know if it officially counts…there wasn't exactly a screaming match."

"I won't tell if you won't."

"I've always been a big fan of mulligans," she informed him, trailing a finger down his chest leadingly.

"I think I could get behind that idea."

"Behind, huh? Dirty," she smirked, prompting him to groan.

"Does it mean we'd have to have another fight?" he pondered.

"No more fights," she stated firmly.

"No more fights," he agreed wholeheartedly. "No more being a jackass."

She buried her head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling her into a relaxed but not-quite-sleepy state. The absence of his light snores informed her he too remained awake.

She played with the sprinkling of hair there absently, pressing a kiss to his warm skin every so often to convey her affection.

"Tell me about your dad," she whispered into the darkness a long while later.

"Right now?" he asked, and while she couldn't see his face, she knew his eyebrow would be raised.

"Well I can put on clothes first if you really want, but I'm not sure it will make much difference," she giggled.

"Ah, geez," he sighed, tightening his hold on her. "What do you want to know?"

"The little things…what did he smell like? What books did he read? What were the things he always said? You told me a little bit about him before we started dating but I want to know more – if you're willing to tell me, that is."

"What did he _smell_ like?"

"She shoved his side with her shoulder and defended, "Hey, it's a fair question. Every dad has their special brand of dad scent."

"They do?" he asked skeptically.

"Yeah. Like my dad's is cigars mixed with this kind of woody scent – I think it's from the big mahogany desk in his office – and this fancy cologne my mom buys him. Sometimes there's a bit of scotch thrown in there too when he comes back from the club or has been entertaining guests."

"Huh," Luke mused, casting his mind back to the countless days spent by his father's side. "I guess it kind of varied. Like, he'd come home from work smelling of wood lacquer and turpentine. Someone would come into the hardware store and he'd pop out to help them fix whatever it was that needed fixing, or he'd do paint demonstrations and have to use the turps to get it off his hands. His arms were always splattered with some kind of paint."

Lorelai nodded, allowing him to go on.

"Sometimes, you'd get a whiff of gun powder if he'd been out with the damn reenactors. He used to wear some kind of cologne too…I don't know what it was, but half the time Mom's perfume ended up rubbing off on him."

"That sounds familiar," she teased, knowing she'd left a telltale trace of perfume or lipstick on Luke on more than one occasion.

"Yes, I've definitely seen that tree before," he grumbled, but there was no malice in his words.

"And what else? What did he like to read?" she pressed.

"He wasn't really much of a reader. I mean, other than the newspaper or the occasional fishing magazine. He read the paper every morning. You'd always find his head buried in the sports section, keeping up with the baseball scores."

"Chip off the old block," she murmured, smiling at him.

"Actually, he used to read to my mom," he added, and she could tell by his tone that it was a memory he'd previously forgotten.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, back when I was a kid, if I couldn't sleep I'd sometimes find them sitting out on the porch, drinking tea. He'd read her E.E. Cummings or Whitman, things like that."

"Poetry?" she clarified in surprise.

By all accounts, Luke and his father had been cut of the same cloth, so she struggled to reconcile the image of a macho Danes man reading the poetic greats. Then she was reminded of Luke reading Rory's collection of Brontes and Austens, and she couldn't help but smile. Male stereotypes be damned; the Danes men were predisposed to bend over backward for their loved ones.

"That sounds kind of nice," she murmured, rubbing her hand over his torso gently.

"Mmmhmm," he agreed contentedly, pressing an adoring kiss to her temple. "He was crazy about her. And vice versa."

"It sounds like they had a great marriage."

"Yeah, they were a good team. They were just so…connected, I guess. Like, one of them would walk into a room and the other would just _know_ , even without seeing them, you know?"

"I know," Lorelai affirmed quietly. "I had a sneaking suspicion you were there at the recital tonight before I saw you at the end," she confessed. "You came in not long after it started, didn't you? It was around the third act."

His mouth went dry as he absorbed her words, nuzzling her ear as he whispered a soft, "Yes."

"And you do it too," she murmured knowingly.

"Yes."

"At the diner."

"Yes."

"How do you know it's me?"

"How did you know it was me earlier tonight?" he challenged. "It's just a feeling in here," he said, gesturing to his abdomen. "The bells on the door sound the same, and half the time I can't see you because I'm in the kitchen or my back's turned, but I always know it's you."

"God, that's sexy," Lorelai breathed, nipping at his heated flesh. She watched a shudder rip through him as her teeth sunk into him lightly. "Maybe we could fine-tune it and go global. Like, you fly to some exotic location around the world and I have to track you down, using only my sixth sense and womanly charms. It would make for great reality TV," she mused. "We'll call it 'bloodhounds'."

"More like 'nutjobs on the loose'," he deadpanned. "Has anyone ever told you you're crazy?"

"Oh, stop with the sweet talking already," she joshed in a high pitched, girlish voice, feigning rapture. "You're such a charmer I can hardly keep my clothes on."

"You're not wearing any clothes," he growled, a predatory glint in his eyes as his hand swept up to claim her exposed breast.

"Well, would you look at that? Apparently, your powers extend beyond the realms of Lorelai locational osmosis," she teased, cocking her eyebrow as he rolled on top of her and she hooked her leg around his back to hold him in place. "I thought you were exhausted."

"Super stamina," he winked, allowing his fingers to trail down to the apex between her thighs.

"Mmmm, you don't say?" she replied breathily.

"Uh huh," he answered seriously, leaning down to nibble on her lip sensually. "Want to find out what else I can do?"

-o-

 **I would sooooo love to hear your thoughts on this one. Your reviews are truly appreciated!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer:** I reference one of Dr Seuss' rhymes in this chapter. Definitely not mine (unfortunately!) and full credit to the original author.

 **Story recap:** Last chapter, Luke faced his dark day, opting to venture out to his family's cabin in place of attending 11-year-old Rory's dance recital. After serving up some fairly brutal treatment to Kirk and snapping at Lorelai repeatedly before leaving Stars Hollow for the day, he came to his senses and hightailed it back from the cabin in time to catch Rory's performance.

Luke opened up to Lorelai and she was able to stay overnight at his apartment and comfort him while Mia watched Rory. This chapter begins the following morning…

-o-

 **Chapter 22**

Lorelai blinked blearily, the sound of Luke's soft snores coaxing her awake. Taking a moment to catalog her surroundings, she settled her gaze on his broad frame, his chest rising and falling gently with each breath. She was relieved to find him sleeping soundly, all traces of distress from the morning prior having seemingly evaporated.

As if he sensed her watching him, he grumbled something incoherent and shifted his position on the mattress. Running one hand soothingly across his abdomen, Lorelai set about disentangling herself from his side, a soft smile playing on her lips at his futile attempt to keep hold of her, even in sleep.

The wall of cold air hit her naked skin the moment she slipped from beneath the bed covers and she immediately tip-toed across Luke's apartment to the bathroom to swipe his discarded flannel. Drawing it tightly around her and crossing her arms across her chest, she set about cranking the central heating. She danced from foot to foot, willing the ancient system to kick in quickly.

Coffee. That would help warm her up.

Scurrying over to the kitchen, Lorelai hastily located the plunger and prepared her morning brew, being careful not to make too much noise. The muffled sounds coming from the diner below indicated either Aaron or Caesar had opened for the morning, so she took the opportunity to let Luke get some well-earned rest.

With coffee in hand and balance restored to the universe, Lorelai made her way over to the bedroom window, greedily soaking up the heat from the mug and willing herself to stay awake so she could start her work day. She savored sip after sip, losing herself in observing a largely deserted Stars Hollow – save for a few morning people, whose sanity she concluded was nothing short of non-existent.

Reaching out one hand, she slid the window open and made a point of sniffing the crisp morning air, jumping when she felt Luke's muscular arms ensnare her waist.

"You know if you want bacon, you don't have to follow your nose; it's right downstairs," he growled from behind her, drawing the comforter he'd pulled from the bed around them both.

"Hey handsome," she whispered, relaxing into his embrace and soaking up the heat he provided. "No need to worry that pretty head of yours. I got the bacon coordinates down pat years ago."

He pressed a kiss into her hair and pulled her flush against him before croaking, "In that case, why the hell have you got the window open? It's freezing."

Lorelai inhaled deeply once more before explaining, "I was checking for snow."

"Snow? It's the first day of December," he pointed out, his brow furrowed.

Lorelai slid the window shut and turned in his embrace. "Exactly! It's the perfect day for the first snow fall. What better time for it to happen than when everyone's putting up their Christmas decorations?"

"But it never snows this early in Stars Hollow," he countered logically, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

"Grinch," she scowled. "Never say never."

"Has it ever snowed this early in the whole time you've lived here?" he challenged.

She glowered at him, not wanting to concede he had a point.

"There's a first time for everything," she huffed.

He snorted, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You're honestly telling me it's going to snow today?"

"No, not today," she sighed resignedly. "I don't smell a thing so it's a least a week away."

"You don't _smell_ a thing?" he queried incredulously, this time unable to hold back his laughter. "You can't smell snow Lorelai."

" _You_ might not be able to smell snow Burger Boy but I'll have you know I've got it down to a fine art thank you very much."

"Sure. And I'm the Queen of England," he deadpanned, his eyebrows in grave danger of disappearing into his hairline.

She swatted at his chest, giving his abdomen a solid poke as well in protest.

"You know, it's looking awfully lonely and self-righteous up there on your high horse, mister. Feel free to come back down and eat your words any time," she taunted. "Did I mention Rory can vouch for my snow-detecting prowess?"

"I'll believe it when I see it," he grumbled.

Doing her best to stifle a yawn, Lorelai snuggled in close to him. After a few beats of silence, her playful expression sobered and she asked softly, "How are you holding up today babe? Feeling okay?"

Luke allowed himself to reflect briefly on the exhausting dark day that he'd managed to weather once again, noticing with surprise that the pain wasn't quite as acute as he'd come to expect over the years. For once, the melancholy had been interspersed with moments of happiness and contentment – something he attributed entirely to two blue-eyed brunettes.

"I'm fine," he murmured, giving Lorelai's waist a gentle squeeze in a subtle attempt to convey his thanks. When she eyed him skeptically, her mussed hair making her as endearing to him as ever, he stressed, "Really, I'm good. I mean it."

Satisfied he was telling the truth, Lorelai nodded and pecked a chaste kiss to his lips.

Eager to have the spotlight off him, Luke quickly changed the subject, asking, "So what's on the agenda for today?"

A smile immediately lit up her face and she began to rattle off her list of tasks.

"First up: cuddles with my man, followed closely by collecting a certain blue-eyed mischief maker from Mia's and getting her off to school. Then I've got a full day of work and I was kind of hoping I could talk the local diner hunk into dragging my Christmas tree out of the attic so we can decorate it this afternoon."

She looked up at him with a hopeful expression, prompting him to scowl.

"You're still trying to roll out that death trap of a tree? It's got more wire sticking out of it than Bridgeport prison."

"In-built security; stops anyone putting their greasy paws on my presents," Lorelai smirked.

Heaving a sigh, Luke shook his head.

"I refuse to have any part in putting up that damn tree. If one of you slices a limb open, I don't wanna go down for manslaughter."

"But Luke…" she whined.

"But nothing. I'll help you put a tree downstairs on one condition: that we get a new one. No wire branches or synthetic crap. We'll get a proper one from the tree farm out at Litchfield."

Lorelai's demeanor immediately brightened, her eyes wide as she gushed, "A _real tree_? I've never had a real Christmas tree before!"

"What the hell did you have growing up?" he questioned, his forehead creasing with a frown.

Lorelai shot him a well-perfected eye roll. "Only the entire Christmas department at Bloomingdales. Hello…do I need to remind you I'm the spawn of Emily Gilmore?"

"Right, how naïve of me," he muttered.

"So you're serious? You'll really take us shopping for a proper tree? We'll get to pick it out and everything?"

"That's generally how it works," he shrugged, inwardly pleased at her excitement. "I'll swing by the inn after your shift and we can all go from there."

Lorelai squealed a high-pitched squeal, clapping her hands together gleefully.

"Oh my God, Rory is going to lose it when I tell her!"

-o-

He'd sensed her disappointment the moment he'd picked up the phone. Rather than launching into her usual mile-a-minute ramble, Lorelai had paused briefly, her excitement from the morning no longer evident.

Michel was sick. Something about man-flu and hand-to-mouth-to-moth disease. The detail was lost on Luke, but whatever the ailment, the bottom line was that Lorelai was forced to work late at the inn. To Luke, it had seemed logical that they'd simply reschedule their trip to the Christmas tree farm for another afternoon, but his uncharacteristically superstitious girlfriend had insisted it was tradition for the Christmas tree to go up on the first of the month, and she wasn't about to renege on that ritual lest it attracted bad luck and resulted in St. Nick saddling her with decaf coffee and – God forbid – a gym membership.

After a round of weak protests – including pointing out that the tree was more likely to survive until Christmas if they held off purchasing it for a week or two – he'd reluctantly agreed, which is how Luke and Rory found themselves venturing out to the farm that afternoon sans coffee addict.

"Sorry your mom had to work late," he murmured over the hum of the truck engine, offering Rory an apologetic smile. "I'm sure she would have made this whole thing way more fun for you."

Drawing her attention away from the vast fields of crops and trees whizzing by, Rory lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, her infectious grin indicating her high spirits were far from dampened.

"It's okay. I'm still so excited. I just wish Mom got to enjoy it too. She's going to be so bummed she missed out."

"We'll just have to make sure we bring her home a great tree," Luke concluded, glancing sideways at her before returning his eyes to the road.

Rory nodded enthusiastically, practically buzzing with energy. When they passed through the wooden gates and pulled into the parking lot, she let out an excited squeak, her hands and nose pressed to the window as she took in row upon row of trees.

Reminding him more of her mother with every passing second, Rory brushed off his attempts at fussing over her chosen attire, assuring him that she was plenty warm enough as she exited the vehicle and tugged him eagerly toward the wooden cabin nearby.

The attendant was friendly and welcoming, picking up on the 11-year-old's excitement and offering them both a red Santa hat – much to Luke's chagrin – as she ran through the purchase process.

"Keep a hold of this walkie talkie as you wander about, and when you see the tree you want, hold down this button and let us know its location," the worker instructed. "Each row is assigned a colour and we number them from 1 to 120 in the other direction, so just keep an eye out for the markers and you'll be able to tell the guys in the field exactly where to bring the tractor. So for example, you might say 'blue, 17' or 'purple, 56'. Does that all make sense?"

Rory's head bobbed up and down, her eyes wide and impossibly blue as she hung on the older lady's every word. The attendant couldn't help but laugh at how the girl's eyes had lit up even more at the mention of the tractor.

"Big tractor fan, huh?" she inquired, sharing a soft smile with Luke.

"It's like a real farm!" Rory exclaimed.

"Well, if you're good today, I think I might be able to pull some strings and get the guys to give you a ride. What do you think?"

So giddy at the suggestion of a tractor ride, Luke could have sworn Rory was on the verge of passing out cold. When it appeared that she was struggling to form words to respond, Luke clapped his hands on her shoulders and answered, "I think you may have just made her day."

Both adults let out a knowing chuckle and after thanking the attendant, Luke steered Rory outside, ready to start the selection process.

With the tree line in her sights, Rory raced ahead, her Santa hat making her stand out against the sea of green as she urged Luke to keep up. He followed with long strides, letting her dictate which rows to inspect. There was little rhyme or reason to her chosen path, Rory simply weaving through the mass of pines and veering off left or right whenever another prospective tree caught her attention.

After 20 minutes of animated exploration, she paused to catch her breath, her hands coming to rest on her knees. Panting, her breath came out in short puffs, the chilly wind turning them into white clouds the moment they left her mouth.

"How you doing Squirt?" Luke asked, a slight smile pulling at his lips at the sight of her rosy red cheeks and bright eyes.

She grinned delightedly, drawing in another deep breath before exclaiming, "I'm great. This is so much fun Luke!"

"Any contenders?"

He wouldn't have thought it possible, but somehow, Rory's smile seemed to get even wider.

"I can't decide! They're all so beautiful but it needs to be the perfect one."

"You know you've looked at at least 300 of them, right?"

She smiled happily, knowing his gruffness was all for show and giggling when he teased her by tugging her Santa hat down over her eyes.

Shifting her hat so she could see, Rory poked her tongue out at him mischievously, reaching for his hand so they could set off once again. All the running had clearly tired her out, so she assumed a slower pace, walking along beside him. When her steps began to get heavier and more sluggish a little while later, Luke crouched in front of her and took the liberty of hoisting Rory onto his shoulders, allowing her to direct him on her chosen path. She clung tight to his shoulders and neck, giggling wildly when she pretended to steer him with his ears.

After a further 20 minutes, Rory threw up her arms, clearly torn with indecision.

"I don't know Luke! It's so hard to decide which one to take home. I thought I'd just _know_ when I saw the right one but that hasn't happened and they're all so pretty! Which one do you think we should get?"

"They all look fine to me kiddo," he shrugged, holding on to her ankles to secure her. "What about the one you liked that had all those different shades of green?"

Rory thought hard for a moment, her expression pensive. "Hmm, I'm not sure. The colors were nice but maybe one of the taller ones would be better."

Twisting his arm to check his watch, he informed the 11-year-old that dusk would soon be approaching. With time getting away from them and the farm near to closing for the day, Rory ran through the catalog of trees she'd committed to memory and haphazardly created a mental pro-con list for each.

Luke lifted her from his shoulders, settling her on her feet and crouching down to her height.

"You know, it's a good problem to have, Squirt. If they're all so nice you can't decide which one's best, then you're bound to choose a winner no matter what."

She appeared to mull over his words for a moment, finally nodding slowly and allowing a smile to overtake her lips.

"I guess you're right. Maybe I should just forget the list, spin around on the spot and see which one I land on."

"I think you might be onto something," he agreed with a wink.

Rory spun in circles, closing her eyes and pointing her finger outwards until she landed on the winning pine. "Green, 34!" she concluded happily, giggling as she steadied herself against Luke's arm and waited for the brief spell of dizziness to subside.

"Green, 34 it is," Luke chuckled, pulling the walkie talkie from his back pocket to let Rory call it in.

A weathered tractor soon appeared, puttering along the row of trees, a white-haired man at the helm. Shutting off the engine, he nimbly jumped down from the seat with more energy than Luke would have anticipated for a person of his age, greeting the duo with a warm hello.

Settling his eyes on Luke, he appeared to do a double take before cocking his head to the side and asking, "You wouldn't happen to be the Danes kid would you? Bill's eldest?"

"That's right," Luke nodded slowly, eyeing him with confusion. One look at Luke's muscular frame would tell anyone he was far from a kid, but he imagined any person under the age of 40 could be classified as a youngster to the older gent.

"Forgive me; I've forgotten your name, but I rarely forget a face. I remember you used to come out here year after year with your dad."

"You've sure got a good memory. I'm Luke," he advised, offering his hand to shake.

"Tommy. Tommy Stiles. Good to see you again Luke. It's been what? Easily 10 years or more since you were last here?"

"Something like that," he agreed, casting his mind back to when he'd single-handedly hauled his last Christmas tree home to set up for an ailing William.

"And now you've got a family of your own I see," Tommy offered good-naturedly, offering a congenial smile in Rory's direction.

"This is Rory," Luke said by way of introduction, smiling softly as he gave the young girl's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Her mom got caught up at work so it's just the two of us today."

"Well I'm very pleased to meet you Rory. You've picked a fine tree here. What do you say we get started so you can take this home to decorate?"

Rory nodded eagerly, breathing a shy, "Yes, please."

The man tottered back to the tractor to collect a saw, chattering happily as he did so. "Now once you folks are done with the tree, feel free to drop it back to us for recycling. We've had so many customers mention that they don't know how to go about disposal after Christmas, so we've introduced a new service this year where we chip 'em and shred 'em."

Luke nodded appreciatively, but Rory froze, her eyes bugging wide.

"Y…you put them in a woodchipper?" she clarified timidly.

"That's right. Beats throwing 'em out on the sidewalk," Tommy answered easily. Catching sight of her alarmed expression, he added, "Urban myth that artificial trees are better for the environment than real ones. Shredding 'em is a great way of recycling. You're welcome to take the mulch home for your garden if you have any use for it."

Sensing Rory's unease, Luke said her name softly, his tone questioning. He could see the uncertainty flickering in her eyes, her desire to be polite warring with her discomfort at the thought of her beloved tree being shred into thousands of pieces.

"Squirt?" he pressed, encouraging her to voice her concerns.

When she fixed him with the Bambi eyes, he knew the writing was on the wall.

"We might just need to take a minute sorry Tommy."

The older man nodded in understanding, traipsing a few feet away to offer them some privacy.

"What's up?" Luke inquired, bending forward to rest his hands on his knees so he was closer to her eye height. "You don't like the idea of shredding the tree?"

Rory shook her head, murmuring, "It's so beautiful. I don't want to destroy it."

"Okay," he returned patiently. "Did you want to stick with an artificial one instead?"

"No! I mean, maybe…I don't know," she confessed sheepishly, biting her lower lip. "I guess I just thought we'd be able to plant it in the yard or something once we were done. I was so excited to get it that I didn't really think about it dying."

"I'm afraid to say it's part of the cycle, sorry kiddo," he acknowledged, his tone gentle. "The tree gets cut off at the trunk, so without the root ball, it won't survive if we plant it."

Rory nodded in disappointment, clearly torn as to what to do.

Clapping her on the shoulder, Luke murmured, "Whatever you decide is fine with me. Don't feel you have to pick a real one for the sake of your mom and me. We'll be happy with anything."

"I don't want to kill it," she whispered, her cheeks tinging a faint shade of red.

"Okay, well decision made then. No problem kiddo."

Returning to his full height, Luke offered Tommy an apologetic smile and said, "We've had a change of heart, sorry Tommy. We're keen to find something that won't wither away in a few weeks' time. Sorry to drag you all the way over here."

The man brandished one hand to indicate it was no problem, then took a moment to return the saw to the tray on the back of the tractor. Turning to the duo, he said, "You know, if you'd like something that you'll be able to hang onto for a while, we've got a handful of potted trees up behind the office. Definitely not as big of a selection but they do the trick and unless you're a total brown thumb, they'll live for years."

Rory's eyes immediately lit up and she nodded eagerly, bouncing on her toes.

"Fancy a tractor ride up there?" the older man offered.

After catching Luke's eye to seek permission, Rory squealed in excitement, thanking Tommy profusely. She urged Luke to stand on the tray alongside her, and he held onto her protectively, gripping the back of the tractor with one hand to stabilize them despite the tractor moving at a snail's pace.

The second the potted trees were in close enough range to see properly, Rory pointed to one excitedly and exclaimed, "There! That's it! That's the one! Mom's going to love it!"

Luke had to squint to make sure he'd definitely settled his gaze on the same tree, because the tall, wonky trunk and uneven, scraggly branches left a lot to be desired.

"You mean the one on the end?" he asked, perplexed.

"Yes, it's perfect!" Rory gushed, leaping from the tray the second the tractor came to a stop. "It's like something straight out of Whoville!"

"Who- _what_?"

"Whoville! You know, Dr. Seuss. This is exactly the kind of tree the Whos would have."

"Who?" he queried, utterly baffled.

"The Whos!"

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Luke shrugged at Tommy's chuckle, concluding it might just be easier to remain in the dark.

"I guess we have our winner."

-o-

"Ah-choo! Ah-choo! Ah-choo!"

"Classy," Luke deadpanned as he watched his girlfriend wipe her nose with her sleeve, her sneezes a result of the thick layer of dust coating the box of Christmas decorations.

"Grandma would be so proud," Rory smirked.

Her festive spirit undampened, Lorelai merely grinned gleefully, continuing to draw armfuls of handmade baubles and trinkets from the box's depths.

"Oh, check it out Rory! It's your popsicle snowman!" she cooed, holding up a mass of what looked to be popsicle sticks and cotton balls.

"What happened to his nose?"

Lorelai appeared momentarily stumped before locating a minuscule piece of orange cardboard that Luke supposed was meant to resemble a carrot.

"Found!" she cried triumphantly. "Nothing a bit of PVA can't fix."

Satisfied, Rory nodded happily, stepping forward to join her mother in inspecting the box's contents. Her smile widened when she located another prized decoration from years past.

"Hey Mom, I found Mervin the Elf!"

"Oooh, make sure he goes front and center sweets," Lorelai instructed, gesturing toward the partly decorated tree.

Rory fixed the ornament into position, shifting some of the tinsel to the side and admiring her handiwork.

"You guys make all the ornaments?" Luke inquired from his position on the couch, watching them with interest.

"Almost. At first we did it because we couldn't afford anything else, but now it's just tradition," Rory explained easily, hanging a cardboard candy cane over one of the branches. "Pretty much anything that's knitted is Mom's and I made the rest at home or school."

"Knitted?" he asked in confusion.

"Yeah, check these out," Rory responded, digging through the box and producing two ornaments suspended by fishing line.

Luke inspected them closely, turning the items over in his hands.

"These were lightbulbs?"

"Yep, Mom used to keep them after they burnt out and then she'd knit around them. I think they look cooler than the store-bought baubles."

"Huh," Luke murmured, impressed by the intricate patterns. One featured sprigs of holly and the other was covered in snowflakes, with Lorelai's name stitched on the back in large letters.

"The snowflake one is Mom's special one. Mine's here somewhere too," Rory added, absently scanning the Christmas detritus covering the floor.

"These are great, kid. You and your mom have done a good job."

Rory blushed and muttered, "You haven't seen the disaster Mrs. Claus I made when I was three."

Both adults laughed appreciatively, Lorelai taking the opportunity to procure the ornaments from Luke and add them to the tree. Like Rory, she was decked out in a Santa hat, having laid claim to the one Luke had been given at the Christmas tree farm.

They worked steadily for a time, hanging decorations, adjusting the tinsel and twinkle lights and singing along to the Christmas carols that were gradually driving Luke mad. Nothing screamed 'slow and painful death' quite like Drummer Boy.

Stringing some lights over a particularly skewwhiff tree branch, Rory paused for a moment and said slowly, "Wait, we don't have anything of Luke's on here."

Luke simply snorted and said, "No complaints from me, Squirt. I'm not exactly big on Christmas."

Both girls' jaws dropped in unison and they stared at him as if he'd drowned their favorite puppy.

"Not big on Christmas?" Lorelai repeated incredulously. "But it's so much fun!"

"Decorations and presents and Christmas movie marathons…" Rory began.

"Apple tarts and hot toddies," Lorelai added.

"Setting up the sugar cookies for Santa."

"Cuddling up under a blanket."

"Looking at all the twinkle lights."

"Snow walks around the town square."

"The greedy commercialization of a religious observance," Luke scowled. "Not to mention the systematic annihilation of every pine tree in Connecticut."

"Not ours," Rory pointed out, her blue eyes wide and innocent.

"Not ours," Luke conceded gruffly, eyeing the black pot that Rory had decorated with a string of tinsel.

"Well, as long as I'm not left in charge of it anyway," Lorelai quipped. "Anyone who says you can't kill a cactus in under a week has never met me. Let's hope this tree makes it to see Christmas of '96."

Scanning her eyes over the Christmas tree, Rory pinpointed a few ornament-free branches.

"Do you have any baubles at your apartment that you could bring around Luke?" she asked hopefully, her expression childlike. "It's your tree too. I mean, you are spending Christmas with us, right?"

His eyes met Lorelai's and he murmured, "Isn't your agreement with your parents to spend Christmas and Thanksgiving with them?"

Her expression brightened, and she grinned wickedly as she said, "Not this year! Remember we had the disastrous Christmas in July with them a few months back? They planned to spend the real thing with Gran in London this year so we've already paid our penance."

"What happened to Thanksgiving?" he asked with a frown. "Not that I'm complaining but how come you got out of that last month?"

"Don't speak too soon," Lorelai muttered darkly. "Mom and Dad had already left for Europe so they weren't around to celebrate. But knowing my mother, she'll make sure she cashes in on her promised visit one way or another. Mark my words: she's just biding her time."

"So Christmas with us?" Rory asked brightly.

"Christmas with you," Luke agreed, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. "Maisy and Buddy have invited me out to their place for lunch, so maybe we could all go out to the farm for part of the day. Only if you want to," he added hastily.

"Oh, Christmas at the farm!" Rory gushed. "Mom, can we? You'll finally get to meet Maisy and Buddy and I can play with Molly."

Lorelai looked at Luke somewhat uncertainly, hesitant to agree when they technically hadn't been invited.

"It sounds fun but I'm not so sure Maisy and Buddy will like us crashing their Christmas lunch," she pointed out, chewing her lower lip.

"Pfft, Maisy's been at me for months to get you both out there," Luke countered, waving one hand dismissively. "They love having people around and haven't got any kids or grandkids of their own so they'll jump at the chance to spoil Rory. I can call them and ask but I guarantee you they'll be over the moon. There's always enough food to feed an army and Maisy mentioned Mia's coming too so you'll get to spend the day with her."

"It does sound kind of nice," Lorelai offered tentatively, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her cheeks.

"So it's settled then. I'll call them. We'll do present opening here in the morning and head to the farm for lunch."

"Sounds like a plan, Stan."

The girls continued swathing the tree in all manner of tinsel, lights and craft before Lorelai winged one eyebrow and uttered cryptically, "I think it might be time."

Nodding enthusiastically, Rory reached to the very bottom of the cardboard box, a smile lighting up her face as she withdrew one last ornament.

"Maybe Luke can help you do the honors, my sweet," Lorelai suggested, and her wild hand movements intimated he should rise from the couch.

He didn't stand immediately, unsure of what they were up to.

"What's that?" he asked inquisitively, trying to get a better look at the mysterious item in Rory's hands.

"It's the limited edition, light-up, musical Hello-Kitty-in-a-reindeer-costume tree topper," Rory breathed in awe, holding the item as if it were made of gold. "They only made a hundred of them and Mom and I had to stage a sit-in in front of the store for two days to get it. It has a star in its belly and when you press it it plays Christmas Wrapping by The Waitresses, which Mom says is second only to The Bangles' Hazy Shade of Winter as far as Christmas songs go. But technically, the Bangles song doesn't actually mention Christmas so I don't think it counts, and anyway, it was a Paul Simon track to begin with so that makes this one number one, no matter what Mom tells you."

Luke figured that at best, he'd caught a third of what she'd blurted at warp speed. Experience had taught him that even if he had have absorbed the entire monologue, the pop culture references would have sailed right above his head anyway, so he didn't bother seeking clarification.

Instead, he arranged his face in what he hoped resembled an impressed smile and muttered, "That sounds really…er…great, Squirt. You need a hand reaching the top of the tree?"

Rory nodded keenly, clinging to him as he hoisted her up into his arms so she could settle the ornament on the topmost branch. She pressed the star button as Lorelai flicked on the twinkle lights, and they all flopped back on the rug to take in the festive decorations.

"It looks so good!" Rory squeaked, clapping her hands together delightedly.

"It looks like Rudolph threw up in here," Luke grumbled, taking in the stockings hung by the fireplace and the copious amounts of lights strewn about the room.

"You did good kid," Lorelai praised. "Great choice on the tree. I couldn't have picked better myself. It's like something fresh out of Whoville."

"That's what I said!" Rory exclaimed with a giggle.

"Will somebody please tell me what the hell Whoville is?" Luke asked exasperatedly. "This is just a regular tree. What's with all the hype?"

"Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot..." Lorelai sing-songed.

"But the Grinch, who lived just north of Whoville, did NOT!" Rory continued.

Luke simply groaned, covering his eyes with his hands and pulling himself back onto the couch as he grumbled, "I take it back; I don't want to know anymore."

"The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!" Lorelai recited, shooting a pointed glare at Luke.

"Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason," Rory parroted, her eyebrows raised teasingly.

Rising from the floor, Lorelai walked behind the couch and draped her arms around Luke's neck, cooing, "It could be his baseball cap wasn't screwed on just right. It could be, perhaps, that his flannel shirt was too tight. But I think that the most likely reason of all, is that he didn't want to admit he was actually having a ball."

"Are you done?" Luke glowered, a scowl etched onto his face.

Tracing one finger over his furrowed brow, she began, "Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown…"

But Luke had apparently had enough of the rhyme, and he sprung from his seat growling, "That's it. You're toast, Gilmore."

He rounded the couch, prompting her to squeal in delight as she took off down the hall and into the kitchen at speed. Rory followed the duo eagerly, not wanting to miss a minute of the action. She caught sight of the side door slamming closed in Lorelai's wake, indicating her mother had made a hasty escape outside.

Luke was hot on her tail, pulling the door open after her and calling, "Lorelai, it's too damn cold out and you're not wearing your coat."

Her only response was a girlish giggle, prompting him to sigh heavily as he and Rory followed her outside. He managed to corner her against one of the railings, using his bulkier form to block her from making a getaway down the porch steps.

His first instinct was to hoist her over his shoulder, but he thought better of it, scooping one arm beneath her knees and pulling her up into his arms. Instead of holding her close, he dangled her over one of the railings in mock severity, growling, "Any last words?"

She snickered, her tinkle of laughter stirring a sense of warmth in his chest.

"And the more the Grinch thought of this Who Christmas-sing, the more the Grinch thought, 'I must stop this whole thing!'" she taunted, eager to press his buttons once more.

He loosened his hold on her in protest, allowing her to drop an inch or two before snatching her safely back up again.

Rory giggled from the porch, watching as her mother pleaded with her to come to her aid. When that tactic appeared to fail, Lorelai gestured toward the porch steps and said, "Hey Grinch, how about you scoot a little that way?"

Luke eyed her with confusion until she gestured to the roof, pointing out the mistletoe she'd hung above the steps an hour earlier.

He simply shook his head in amusement, but finally complied, pulling her back over the railing and walking the few steps to where she'd directed.

Sighing exasperatedly, he tugged on one of her loose curls and without breaking eye contact, called, "You and Babette might wanna cover your eyes now Rory. Unless you can think of a better way to shut your mom up, then the Grinch is about to kiss her senseless."

-o-

His sixth sense alerted him to her arrival before she made it to the top of the steps, which proved convenient given Lorelai's arms were laden with somewhere in the vicinity of 20 shopping bags and she had no hope of being able to turn the door handle.

Hurrying to the diner entrance to help her inside, Luke eyed the motley assortment of paper and plastic bags, his face etched with a frown.

"Tell me you didn't just max out your credit card," he scowled.

"Nope, pulled a bank job before hitting the shops. I just need to dispose of the getaway car and I'll be home free," she quipped, jerking her head toward the row of vehicles parked outside. "Keep it on the down low, yeah? Prison jumpsuits do nothing for my complexion."

He closed the door behind her, shutting out the icy wind that blasted into the service area and following her across the room.

"What the hell is all this stuff?" he asked, watching on in morbid fascination as she began to free her arms, the sea of bags landing at her feet one by one.

"Christmas presents!" Lorelai exclaimed gleefully, clapping her hands together before shedding her coat and assuming her usual stool at the counter.

"For the entire Eastern Seaboard?"

Ignoring his jibe, she leant over the counter and ordered, "Kiss."

He pecked her lips dutifully, his grouchy expression never wavering.

"You can't possibly know enough people to warrant all those presents."

"Au contraire, Burger Boy. I'll have you know this is just Rory's loot. And probably only part thereof."

His eyes bugged out of his head and she used the momentary silence to point to the rack of coffee cups behind his head emphatically, urging him to serve her a cup.

"You can't afford it," he barked, but he selected a mug nonetheless and began to pour her beloved brew.

"Well good thing I'm sleeping with the owner," she flirted with a teasing wink. "Free coffee's a perk of the job."

His face flushed but he leaned his elbows on the counter and inched in toward her, growling, "Nice try, but I wave your coffee tab and my bottom line will take a hit."

He slid the mug toward her and turned on his heel, moving across the floor to refill various coffee cups around the room. The diner was relatively quiet, with the handful of patrons having already received their meals.

When he returned to his position behind the counter, he raised his eyebrows and said, "I think I'm going to regret asking this, but what did you get for Rory? Or would it be easier to ask what _didn't_ you get?"

"Well the miniature pony and Chinese acrobats are getting delivered next week but I can show you the bulk of the haul," she shrugged.

He rolled his eyes, bracing himself for the onslaught. She dug out various items ranging from clip-on earrings and lurid pink, fluffy slippers with pink pom-poms, right through to a sparkly hairbrush and various bottles of nail polish.

"Let me guess: everything was a thousand per cent off," he said dryly, parroting one of her favored phrases following a shopping expedition.

She grinned happily, her eyes alight with mirth. "Actually smartass, I'll have you know the whole lot came in under 50 bucks."

She sat up a little straighter as the words fell from her lips, her expression somewhat smug. "You heard right…less than 50 big ones. You forget; you're dealing with a shopping virtuoso."

"Virtuoso…addict….you say potato, I say potahto."

Her energy undampened, she continued to beam, only pausing to sip her coffee.

"This is how we do it," she explained easily. "I save up to get Rory one or two bigger ticket items – usually books she's been hanging out for – and the rest is mainly made up of cheap stocking fillers. It means I can still pay the mortgage and she's beside herself on Christmas morning because she has so much to unwrap. What can I say? The kid's easy to please."

Despite his indistinct grunt, she could tell he was suitably impressed. Well, as impressed as Luke got, anyway.

Naturally, he feigned disapproval, and she relished the impassioned rant about consumerism and holiday madness that ensued.

Peeking over the top of her mug, she couldn't help but smile at his grumpy demeanor. She liked him all grouchy and brooding; it was sexy in a Marlon Brando kind of way.

"What?" he snapped, watching the grin overtake her lips.

"Nothin'. I just like lookin' at ya," she rationalized, her laughing eyes never leaving his.

"Lorelai," he growled, irritation setting in.

"Say it again, but crabbier this time," she goaded.

He shot her a withering look and turned to walk off in a huff, but she grabbed him by the wrist and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Stay. It's too special of a day to be grumpy."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he asked, "Special how?" _Dear God, was he supposed to have remembered some damn anniversary or milestone?_

"Today's the first snowfall of the season," she stated confidently. "I can smell it."

Exhaling in a mixture of both relief and exasperation, Luke sighed, "We've been over this. You can't smell snow Lorelai."

"You sure about that sparky? Why don't you go ahead and look outside?"

Eager to prove her wrong, he did as she asked, crossing his arms pointedly and mumbling, "Well would you look at that…no snow."

Her head whipped around to the window in surprise. Her nose had been tingling so intensely when she'd been outside that she could have sworn the first flakes would fall within minutes. Drawing in a deep breath, she smiled knowingly. Any second now…

"It's coming. I always know and I'm never wrong. We go back, snow and me. We have a beautiful history. Mark my words: good things happen when it snows, and Jack Frost always gives me a heads up when he's on his way. Keep your eyes on that window Burger Boy."

"It's not going to sn…"

But Luke was forced to stop mid-sentence, the words dying on his lips as he watched the swirling white flakes begin to fall from the sky.

"Ah, hell."

"You were saying?" Lorelai smirked, her smile victorious as she took in the sight of her long-awaited friend. She sighed dreamily, her chest tingling with warmth.

"Well that explains why you pin me every time I try switching you to decaf," he grumbled. "You've got the nose of a damn cocker spaniel."

Taking another fortifying sip of coffee, she smiled contentedly, watching the snow fall. Other diner patrons seemed to catch on, some eyeing the flakes with interest and others grumbling about freezing temperatures and inevitable slush.

"Hey Luke…" she began, and he could immediately tell by the wheedling in her tone that she wanted something.

"No," he barked automatically, reaching for a cloth to wipe down the counter.

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask yet," she pointed out.

"I know that whatever it is, I'm not gonna like it."

She offered him her most dazzling smile and retorted, "See that's where you're wrong. What could be better than taking an hour out of the day to spend some quality time with your adorable girlfriend?"

She added in some eyelash batting for good measure and he forced himself to keep his eyes on the counter top to avoid giving in. At least she wasn't wearing the flippy skirt, so he could pretend he wasn't entirely whipped for longer than half a second. _Thank God for small mercies_.

"I'm working Lorelai," he deadpanned.

"Play hooky," she urged, putting a stop to the bench wiping by resting her hand on his. "C'mon live a little. It's not like you're run off your feet. Besides, Caesar's here if anyone else comes through the door."

Reaching back to rub his neck, he seemed to contemplate her words for a moment, but didn't respond immediately.

Knowing all he'd need was some simple cajoling, she added, "If not for you, then do it for me. I've got to lug all these presents over to the potting shed and hide them there before school gets out so Rory won't sniff them out at home. My arms might snap off if I have to do it alone and you'll feel really bad if I freeze on the way and you have to break it to Rory that her mom's turned into one of those cavewomen preserved eternally in a block of ice. I need a pack horse and some company, and it's a good excuse to take the first snow walk of the season."

"Isn't that your tradition with Rory?" he questioned, and she knew despite the feigned irritation in his voice that she had him hook, line and sinker.

"Well, we normally go once the snow sticks and the town looks like a little postcard village. This can be a kind of prelude. Consider it the preliminary snow walk."

Sensing his capitulation, she gave a delighted squeak and called, "Hey Caesar, I'm stealing Grumpypants McGee for an hour so you might need to take over scowling at the customers for a while."

Wandering out from the kitchen, Caesar assured them he could handle the workload in Luke's absence and encouraged them to take their time.

They gathered the bags and their coats and set off for the inn, Lorelai looking around the town in wonder and spinning happily as they walked. Several flakes landed in her hair and Luke had to fight hard not to smile at the endearing sight she presented.

As they approached the potting shed, Luke settled his gaze on the wooden structure. He'd seen it from afar before, but never actually been inside. When they reached the door, Lorelai juggled the bags she held and managed to turn the brass knob, gesturing for Luke to step inside.

The shed was littered with various odds and ends – some gardening tools, old pots and a wheelbarrow that had clearly migrated there following the Gilmores' departure; but also an assortment of remnants from the girls' time there, including items of wooden furniture, a bath tub and a flowery curtain acting as some kind of room divider.

Taking in the cluttered space as he ventured further inside, Luke bent to shift a rusty old saucepan that lay on the floor in front of him.

"Er…you might wanna leave that there, otherwise Mia's going to have her own private swimming pool in here once the snow melts," Lorelai pointed out, gesturing upward at a hole in the roof. "You get used to playing a little hopscotch around the leak catchers. Give it 20 minutes and I guarantee you'll have mastered the most direct path across the room."

Her attention focused on the bags in her hands, Lorelai didn't notice the look of concern that shot across Luke's face at her easy chatter. He mentally counted the assortment of buckets and pans scattered around the floor and cleared his throat quietly before asking, "These…ah…these were all here when you lived here?"

"Oh yeah, most of them. We tried to plug what we could but it was easier said than done, you know?" she answered casually, rifling through the shopping bags she'd settled at her feet.

She reached for the bags in his hands and set about drawing items from their depths, removing the price tags and consolidating everything in one spot. With Lorelai engrossed in her task, Luke took the opportunity to inspect the shed more closely, noting the paint flecking from the window frames and the icy draught blowing through various cracks in the walls and the space beneath the door. He swallowed thickly, imagining a teenage Lorelai struggling to block the holes and keep the room warm enough to prevent her or Rory from falling sick.

Catching sight of a water stain on one wall – most likely a relic from rainy days gone by – Luke moved to run his fingers over the peeling plaster and felt his stomach plummet.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered softly, the words catching in his throat.

The worry in his tone caught her by surprise and Lorelai looked up to find him staring at her with a mixture of sympathy and incredulity.

"I could have helped you. If I'd known I could have…"

She cut him off before he could finish the sentence, setting down the glitter-covered journal in her hands and shaking her head resolutely.

"Oh Luke, no. Don't do that. Don't feel sorry for me, because I sure as hell don't. This is what I chose, hon."

He began to protest but she plowed on, determined to get her point across. "You know I wouldn't consider trading the life I have for a second, and if we hadn't moved in here, Rory and I would never be where we are today. I can't speak for Rory but if I had my time over, I'd do it again babe, I really would."

He stared at her with remorseful eyes, and she knew he was inwardly questioning how he'd let a struggling single mother and her daughter fly under his radar, and chastising himself for not having come to her aid in the years before they'd become friends.

"Hey, it's okay," she said softly.

"It's _not_ okay," he stressed. "It's anything _but_ okay, Lorelai. This place was practically falling down around you and I didn't do a thing to help."

"You didn't know," she pointed out logically. "And besides, it's not like we were friends when I first moved here. I didn't get to know you until years later."

"Lorelai…" he choked out helplessly. "Hell, this place doesn't even have any heating. You must have damn near frozen to death in winter."

Abandoning the shopping bags, she strode across the room toward him and touched her hand to his cheek. She held his gaze for a few moments before slipping her hands around his waist and turning him so his back was pressed against her chest.

"We got by, babe. Rory and I were just fine. And it wasn't like we were completely destitute – I managed to snag one of those old, portable fan heaters from a thrift store so it was enough to get us through. Honestly, it was nothing we couldn't handle."

When his muscles remained tense, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade and murmured, "I just wish you could see this place the way I see it, Luke. It wasn't much, but it felt more like home than my parents' house ever could."

Standing up on her tip toes, she rested her chin on his shoulder, still keeping her arms firmly locked around his waist.

"See over there…by the cabinet?" she uttered, gesturing toward a wooden panel. "That's where I measured Rory's height every birthday. The marks are still there. I think she even commandeered the pencil from me one year and scribbled Colonel Clucker's measurements."

Her words were punctuated by a soft laugh and Luke could sense the smile in her voice.

"And right over there? That's where Rory took her first steps. She only managed about two before she toppled over, but I swear to God, I've never been more proud."

She felt some of the tension beginning to leave his muscles, so she pushed on, her mind flooded with memories as she looked around the room.

"That window there? Overlooking the lake? That's where I had my first drink when I turned 21. Well, my first legal one anyway. Rory was conked out on the bed by 7.30 that night, so I had all the lights turned out. I didn't want to go outside in case she woke up in a panic and needed me, so I sat on the windowsill with a _Tickle Pink_ from Doose's and toasted to becoming an adult."

"Ugh. I've got no idea what a _Tickle Pink_ is but it sounds horrible," Luke grimaced, his voice low and rough.

"You're not wrong. It was like drinking a liquid Elmo," she winced.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Lorelai's hand rubbing circles over his forearm.

After some time, he pulled her back in front of him and drew her into his arms, one hand tangling in her curls. She reveled in the closeness, burying her head in his chest and smiling against the soft fabric of his shirt.

When her blue eyes angled up and met his, he held her gaze, truly seeing the fierce, capable and resilient woman she was and feeling his heart explode with admiration and love. He brushed a wayward curl away from her face and bent to press his lips to hers, his kiss tender and sure.

One day, he decided, he was going to marry this woman.

-o-

Luke jerked awake the moment the deadweight struck him at speed, the force winding him as he grappled to identify the flying object, animal or person that had unceremoniously raised him from his slumber.

The muffled 'oomph' from Lorelai on the bed beside him confirmed she too had borne the impact of the collision, and he immediately drew himself into an upright position, ready to take on the incoming threat.

His tense muscles relaxed the moment he caught sight of a rooster plush toy, a messy, brown mop of hair and Rudolph pajamas, and he flopped back on Lorelai's mattress with a groan when Rory cried excitedly, "Merry Christmas!"

"Geez Squirt, you trying to give us heart failure?" he croaked, feeing the wild thump in his chest start to slow.

Rory simply giggled, rising up onto all fours before crawling across the quilt cover toward him and pressing a kiss against his scruffy cheek.

"Merry Christmas Luke!" she squeaked.

"Merry Christmas, baby," came Lorelai's sleep-laden voice, her arms waving about as she reached blindly for her daughter. "Did Santa come?"

Rory giggled once again, snuggling in beside her mother and exclaiming, "You know he did, Mom! You put everything under the tree before you went to bed last night!"

"Well, let's be honest kid; I haven't cleaned that fireplace in the whole time we've lived here, so the fat man never had a hope of making it down the chimney. It was always going to be me."

Rubbing his eyes, Luke finally began to emerge from his sleep-induced state, asking gravelly, "If Rory already knows about Santa, why do you two bother with the whole damn charade?"

"Sugar cookies, babe," Lorelai explained with a wink, cradling Rory against her and pressing a kiss to her temple. "I'll eat St. Nick's quota any day."

"Figures," Luke muttered, his grimace disappearing the moment Lorelai rolled on her side and leaned across Rory to peck him on the lips.

Too excited to sit still, Rory wriggled to the edge of the mattress, eager to head downstairs and inspect the present haul.

Luke stopped her in her tracks, snagging her around her waist and pulling her back down so she landed squarely between him and Lorelai on the mattress.

"Not so fast kiddo. I'm cashing in on my Christmas cuddles before you two get distracted with present opening."

Rory laughed happily, her cheeks rosy as she threw her little arms around his neck and accepted the kiss he pressed to her crown.

"Merry Christmas, Squirt," he growled, offering her a lop-sided smile as she ran her palm over the stubble lining his cheek.

Stretching out his arm in an invitation for Lorelai to move closer, he curled his fingers around her side, tucking both Gilmores against him.

"What do you guys want for your Christmas breakfast? Blueberry pancakes?"

Rory shook her head, looking to her mother with a twinkle in her eye.

"No breakfast required," Lorelai informed him, tickling Rory under the chin. "We have the menu sorted already, don't we sweet cheeks? Same thing we have every year."

"And that would be?" he asked dubiously.

"CHOCOLATE!" the girls shrieked in unison, identical smiles on their faces.

He stared at them exasperatedly, his eyes narrowed.

"You can't eat chocolate for breakfast. You need something wholesome on your stomach. We've got a big day ahead."

"Don't worry that pretty head of yours, Burger Boy; there'll be plenty of fruit and nuts as well," Lorelai countered, a mischievous glint in her eye. "What do you think the Snickers and Bountys are for?"

He sighed, knowing resistance was futile. "Ah geez."

"C'mon, up you get. Our feast and presents await!"

Pulling herself into an upright position and looking every bit as excited as her daughter, Lorelai took hold of one of Luke's hands and gestured for Rory to grab the other.

When he stubbornly resisted their insistent tugs, Lorelai relinquished her hold on him, allowing his arm to flop back down against the mattress.

Throwing a conspiratorial smile in Rory's direction, she simply shrugged and said, "Oh well, more chocolate for us. Race you down to the tree kid. Last one downstairs is a rotten egg!"

-o-

"There's our girl!" Maisy cried, her arms held wide in invitation.

Rory scampered through the doorway, practically beaming as she moved to hug Maisy. "Happy Christmas Maisy, hi Molly!" she greeted, giggling as the dog licked her hand in welcome. "What have you got there Mol?" she asked, watching as the Labrador collected a squeaky toy from the floor and showed it off proudly.

It didn't take long for Rory and her four-legged friend to disappear from the foyer, the young girl not stopping to discard her coat as she got lured into a fast-paced game of fetch.

Turning her attention to the two adults, Maisy gave them a once-over, exclaiming, "Well I'll be damned. Our Lucas has gone and got himself a looker. Buddy! Get out here!"

"Merry Christmas Maisy," Luke groaned, adding in an eye roll for good measure as his hand came to rest in the small of Lorelai's back. "This is Lorelai. Lorelai: This nutter goes by the name of Maisy."

"Merry Christmas!" Lorelai laughed, stepping over the threshold at Maisy's gesture and smiling widely as she offered up a token bottle of wine. "This is for you and Buddy. Thanks so much for having us over."

Maisy simply waved one hand as if it was nothing before tucking the wine bottle under her arm with an appreciative smile and a nod of thanks. "I see Lucas still insists on ignoring me when I tell him not to bring a thing," she chastised lightly, shaking her head.

Taking Lorelai's hands in her own, Maisy stepped back to run a scrutinizing eye over her.

"Now let me get a proper look at you," she ordered light-heartedly. Seemingly satisfied with her assessment, she eyed Lorelai warily, asking, "Alright, what's the catch? You crazy? Got an unhealthy obsession with bag pipe music? Hiding serial killer tendencies?"

"I'd tell you but I'd have to kill you," Lorelai shrugged, earning an appreciative chuckle from the older woman.

"I like this one, Lucas," Maisy declared, shaking her finger in Lorelai's direction.

"Yeah? She passes muster?" he asked good-naturedly, leaning in to give Maisy a one-armed hug around the presents he was juggling.

"Lose the hat already, won't you?" Maisy scolded, flicking the bill of his baseball cap so it landed on the floor. "You're here for a fancy lunch Lucas. The least you could do is keep it civilized."

"Like you know the meaning of the word," he snorted teasingly, shucking his coat and hanging both his and Lorelai's on the rack before following Maisy into the living area.

They exchanged a chorus of Christmas greetings, Mia enveloping the two young adults in a hug and Lorelai fast striking up a rapport with Buddy. The group settled into an easy afternoon filled with good food, wine and banter, and Lorelai reveled in the easy chatter.

Feeling absolutely stuffed full after lunch, Luke found himself seated in the lounge room, Lorelai on the floor at his feet sipping a glass of red wine. They'd not long finished opening the presents, and he sat relaxed, running his fingers through her curls as a companionable silence blanketed the room.

As suspected, Mia, Buddy and Maisy had taken it upon themselves to shower Rory with gifts and attention. The 11-year-old was ecstatic to open a beading kit from Mia and had set about threading a collection of colorful necklaces and bracelets from her position on the lounge room rug.

"Looks like the books were a hit for the second time today," Luke murmured, drawing his gaze away from Rory and flicking his head toward Buddy who was nose down in a cook book.

"All kudos to Sookie on that one."

Not knowing Buddy or Maisy prior to the lunch, Lorelai had begged her best friend for a suitable gift idea for the food-loving couple. Sookie had suggested a specific book set that she guaranteed would set any accomplished chef drooling, and Lorelai had ended up purchasing a second set for Luke, which he'd gratefully unwrapped earlier that morning.

"You having a good time?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm," she hummed contentedly, a broad smile settling on her lips as she took in the sight of Rory fixing a bright pink bracelet around the paw of an ever-patient Molly. "Great company, great food, it's snowing; what more could a girl ask for? I think this is my best Christmas yet," she concluded, rubbing one hand affectionately over his denim-covered calf and allowing her eyes to flicker to the softly falling snowflakes outside.

"Good, because you'd be hard pressed to escape Maisy's clutches now. I think she and Buddy might like you more than me."

"Well what's not to like?" she smirked over her shoulder, drawing her wine glass to her lips with a cheeky smile.

"Must be all that modesty that won them over," he muttered, shaking his head.

"What are you two lovebirds whispering about?" Maisy probed, entering the room after checking on the desserts.

Lorelai shrugged. "Oh, just the usual – plotting to overthrow the government; trying to work out where Luke can score himself a replica pair of George Michael's sparkle hot pants. You know how it is."

Her words earned her a not-so-subtle eye roll and poke in the ribs from her boyfriend.

"Maisy, I know you said you've got everything under control but for the sake of my sanity, I'm begging you: let me help in the kitchen," Luke pleaded.

Maisy smirked knowingly. "You're not fooling anyone Lucas. Scowl all you want but we all know you're not here against your will."

At his petulant huff, she added, "Tell you what: I'll help take the heat off you for a while. Anyone up for an adventure down to the stables?"

The girls' ears immediately pricked up and Rory's eyes widened excitedly.

"You have horses?" she exclaimed.

"Priscilla and Winston," Maisy elaborated with a nod. Shaking one finger pointedly, she muttered, "Don't go falling for Winston's charms. If he thinks he's got a hope of wrangling some food outta you, he'll work you 'til the cows come home."

Rory laughed, jumping to her feet eagerly. "Mom, quick, grab your coat!" she urged.

Her enthusiasm almost on par with her daughter's, Lorelai abandoned her wine glass and stood up, reaching her hand out to Luke in invitation. He eyed her for a moment in contemplation before giving in and rising from the couch.

"You guys coming?" he asked, his eyes passing between Mia and Buddy. They both nodded their assent, Buddy setting his book aside and the group moving to the foyer to don their coats, gloves and scarves.

The snow had stopped falling temporarily, but much to Lorelai's delight, a thick layer of white still blanketed the ground. She took Luke's gloved hand as they stepped outside, reveling in the snow-covered landscape and smiling at the feel of his thumb running across her knuckles.

Ignoring his wife's advice, Buddy loaded a bucket with carrots and gladly gave in to Rory's pleas to carry it down to the stable. She skipped along happily, the bucket swinging at her side as they approached the wooden building.

Maisy's gaze settled on a white stallion as they entered the stable and she shook her head categorically. "Don't bother giving me that look. I'm not giving you squat diddly," she threatened sternly. "Rory, on the other hand…"

As if registering her words, the horse turned its attention to the bucket in Rory's grasp, immediately stretching his head over the wooden gate of his enclosure in search of the awaiting bounty.

"Go right ahead," Buddy encouraged, gesturing for Rory to step closer. "He's a gentle boy, and I daresay you'll be his new favorite person if you hand over those carrots."

Discarding her gloves and lifting one carrot tentatively, Rory held it on her outstretched palm and waited for Winston to claim it. He hastily did so, prompting Rory to giggle at the feel of his rough tongue against her hand.

Approaching the furthest stall, Maisy rested her weight against the gate and turned her attention to the brown mare who Lorelai assumed was Priscilla.

"Now this girl's got a bit of sass," she commented approvingly, reaching out one hand to stroke her mane when the horse nudged her insistently. "Six years old and she sure puts us through our paces. Hasn't got one iota of Winston's placidness."

"She's beautiful," Lorelai said in awe, stepping forward to get a better look. She approached the horse from one side, being sure to make her presence known and resting her hand against its shoulder. Priscilla turned her head, clearly comfortable with the contact and curious about the stranger in her presence.

"May I?" Lorelai asked, gesturing to the stall entrance.

"Knock yourself out," Maisy encouraged, stepping back to allow the younger woman to pass through the gate.

"Hi girl," Lorelai whispered, stepping in close to the mare and flattening her palm against her coat. She stood quietly, her head barely an inch away from the horse as they regarded one another, seemingly forming some kind of silent bond. Aside from the steady rise and fall of her chest, Lorelai didn't move a muscle, her stance steady and calm.

The sight was wholly baffling for Luke, who had scarcely seen Lorelai so still, but for in sleep. Experience had taught him that a motionless Lorelai Gilmore was a rare sign of extreme distress – something that was only on display at the direst of times, when words were not enough to mask an anguished state of mind. Yet watching her interact with the animal, he was struck by how utterly peaceful she appeared, her smile serene.

"Well knock me down with a feather!" Maisy exclaimed. "In the whole time we've had her, I've never seen Priscilla this well behaved. Buddy, I think we've got ourselves a horse whisperer."

Oblivious to Maisy's words, Lorelai began to stroke the horse softly, Priscilla's muscles completely relaxed and her ears flopping down in a sign of contentment.

Buddy guided Rory over to the stall by her shoulders, eager to observe the scene his wife was referring to.

"Somebody knows their way around a stable," he commented quietly, offering an approving nod.

The sound seemed to draw Lorelai from her trance, and she blushed at his words, turning her head to face the onlookers.

"I spent a bit of time around horses as a kid," she admitted, a smile tugging at her lips.

Delighted by her mother's revelation, Rory watched on in awe. Gesturing to Luke to pick her up so she could get a better view over the stall gate, she asked eagerly, "Do you know how to ride, Mom?"

Lorelai shrugged. "Sure. Well, I used to anyway. It's been a while. I daresay I'd be a bit rusty these days."

"Nonsense," Maisy countered, brandishing one hand lightly. "It's like riding a bike; you pick up right where you left off," she assured her. "You know, if you'd like to take her out for a spin, I don't think you'll hear any complaints from Priscilla here. She loves getting out in the snow, and it's nice and soft out there so you won't have to worry about her slipping or hurting herself on ice."

"Yeah?" Lorelai asked tentatively, turning her gaze back on the horse. "What do you think, girl? Fancy a Christmas snow walk?"

Priscilla snorted at the sight of Maisy holding her lead rope, clearly eager to get moving.

"I'll take that as a yes. Alright, let's get you saddled up."

The lure of carrots prompted an otherwise indifferent Winston to join in the activity, the horse happily abandoning his stall at Buddy's signal. Patient as ever, Buddy took the time to talk Rory through each piece of equipment and its function, showing off Winston's winter shoes and inviting her to take a ride. The 11-year-old was ecstatic at the prospect, but the hint of trepidation in her eyes was unmistakable as they joined the others in the yard.

Ever conscious of her daughter's wellbeing, Lorelai gave Priscilla an apologetic caress before stepping away to make sure Rory was okay.

"You good, Sweets?" she asked lightly, wrapping one arm around Rory's shoulder as the young girl stared up at the white horse timidly.

"Yeah. He's really high up, isn't he?"

Lorelai chuckled. "Luckily we've got plenty of snow around to break our fall. Somehow I don't think we'll need it though." At Rory's weak smile, she added, "You know, you don't have to do this if you're nervous. It's totally up to you, babe."

"I am a little bit scared," Rory confessed, her cheeks flushing.

Having heard the conversation, Buddy crouched down at her side and murmured, "You're in safe hands with Winston. He's as gentle as they come. If you're worried, then you don't have to go up but I think you'll like it. And I'll stay by your side the whole time."

Feeling a rush of bravery, Rory clipped her helmet in place and gave Lorelai's hand a tight squeeze. "Okay, I want to try."

The two adults helped to situate her on the horse, Rory grinning nervously from the saddle as she held on tight. Luke hovered anxiously nearby, forcing himself to tuck his restless hands in his pockets when Lorelai teasingly labelled him a helicopter parent.

They led Rory around the yard slowly, Lorelai abandoning the idea of riding the mare in favor of setting her daughter's mind at ease. As Rory's confidence began to grow, Buddy flicked his head toward an impatient Priscilla and said, "Go on. You get settled on Priscilla. We're good here, right Rory?"

The young girl nodded, leaning forward to run her fingers over Winston's soft coat. "Go on Mom, I'm fine with Buddy. This is so much fun!"

Taking in her daughter's buoyant smile, Lorelai finally agreed, urging Rory to call on her if she changed her mind.

She traipsed back across the yard to Priscilla and couldn't help laughing when Maisy gave Luke a firm prod and said, "C'mon, you can join us. You're a nervous wreck watching Rory."

He reluctantly agreed, shooting furtive glances in the young girl's direction whenever possible to make sure she was okay.

"Never been one for riding," Mia commented with a soft smile in Luke's direction. "I remember even as a boy you were always too focused on making sure Liz was alright to enjoy it."

Luke shrugged, mumbling something about preferring to have two feet firmly on the ground.

All concerns and conscious thought soon flew out the window at the sight of Lorelai hoisting herself onto the saddle in a well-practiced maneuver. There was no denying the gracefulness with which she moved, and he found his eyes drawn to the denim stretched tight across her sculpted behind as she pulled herself into position.

A swift clip around the ears brought him crashing back to reality, and Lorelai laughed when Maisy scolded, "Eyes on her face, not her backside Lucas. You're in the company of a lady."

"Yeah, Lucas," Lorelai teased, amusement dancing in her eyes as she poked her tongue out at him.

"Trust me, if you saw her pack away the entire Chinese menu in one sitting, you'd know she's no lady," he muttered, rolling his eyes and prompting Mia to chuckle.

Lorelai took off around the yard, her well-honed riding skills seemingly as familiar as her morning coffee routine. Priscilla bowed to her every command, the duo moving as if they had been partners for years. Luke marveled at the sight of his girlfriend in action, awed by her elegance and skill and the way in which her body flexed intuitively to complement Priscilla's stride.

After some time, Rory and Buddy retired to the stable with Winston, the duo beginning the drying process to ensure the horse remained in good health. Mia and Maisy soon joined them, eager to escape the winter chill.

Luke continued to watch Lorelai from the fence line, his arms resting on the wooden palings.

The sound of boots crunching against snow alerted him to Buddy's presence a short time later, and the older man came to a stop beside him, mirroring Luke's stance against the fence as his gaze settled on Lorelai.

"Something tells me she didn't pick up her riding skills growing up on a farm," he murmured perceptively, watching Lorelai with interest. "Blue-blood, huh?"

Luke grunted noncommittally, his attention still focused on his girlfriend as she moved about the yard.

"Where's she hail from?"

"Hartford," Luke answered simply.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say Lockwood Estate," Buddy wagered, referencing the sought-after district that was recognized widely for its affluent residents and generous-sized dwellings.

Despite knowing Buddy meant no harm and was simply making conversation, Luke's jaw twitched at the mention of the wealthy area where Lorelai had been brought up. It was a far cry from his humble Stars Hollow upbringing.

"She left a decade ago. Stars Hollow is her home now," Luke explained evenly, more for his own benefit than Buddy's. He hoped the older man missed the hint of defensiveness that had somehow crept into his tone.

Buddy eyed him appraisingly, his brow furrowed as he noted calmly, "It bothers you."

The words were an observation, not a question, and Luke snorted in response, his eyes still fixed across the yard.

"Why?" Buddy asked softly, his piercing blue-gray eyes seemingly looking right through Luke.

If the question had come from anyone other than Buddy or perhaps Mia, he most likely would have growled some obscenities and walked off. But knowing the older man's kind persona as he did, Luke relented with a sigh.

"I don't know. It's stupid, really. I know it shouldn't matter but for some reason it's just there in the back of my mind."

"Lorelai doesn't strike me as the type to make a song and dance about it," Buddy commented calmly. "Matter of fact, from what I've seen of her today, she doesn't seem to have a hoity-toity bone in her body."

"No," Luke agreed, watching her with affection and admiration. "Her mom got the lion's share of that particular trait. Lorelai's like some crazy throwback. Put it down to a recessive gene or something. No airs and graces there."

Buddy chuckled good-naturedly but it didn't take long for his facial expression to sober.

"So if it isn't an issue for Lorelai, then why do you let it get to you?"

Luke exhaled, his eyes downcast as he focused on kicking at the snow gently and watching it land a few feet away. After an extended silence, he said gruffly, "Only a matter of time before she comes to her senses."

He turned and made to walk back to the stable, but Buddy stopped him in his tracks by lowering a hand to his shoulder.

"You keep telling yourself that and you'll make a rod for your own back," the older man cautioned earnestly.

Luke didn't respond – couldn't, really – so he simply stood motionless with his back still turned.

"You think I didn't have my doubts when I was working at that damn dairy and Maisy was teaching?" Buddy entreated.

"It's not the same," Luke mumbled.

"Maybe not, but she had a college education under her belt and I was spending my days milking Jerseys. It was only a matter of time before I started to question why she was with me, no matter what she said to the contrary."

"That gig was temporary. You both knew the plan was to open a restaurant in the long-run," Luke pointed out, shifting his body so he was partly facing Buddy.

"Precisely my point." At Luke's confused frown, he clarified, "We both wanted the same things out of life. We had a future in mind and above all else, we wanted to live it together."

"Did you also have a disapproving family on Maisy's side, a 100-foot-long line of guys queuing up at the door for her with trust funds the size of Texas, and an amazing kid with her heart set on going to one of the priciest ivy-league colleges in the country?" Luke gritted out.

Buddy simply stared at him with something that looked an awful lot like exasperation crossed with sympathy and just a touch of weariness.

"You ought to give your girl some credit Lucas. And yourself. If you and Lorelai decide you want to build a life together, there isn't another soul in this world that can stop you."

His voice was quiet but his eyes blazed with conviction, and he paused a moment to let his words sink in.

"Take it from an old man like me: No good can come from letting your head run wild with doubts and what ifs. You do that and eventually, it'll become a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you love her, then don't let your own insecurity get in the way of that. You'll only shoot yourself in the foot and wind up miserable in the long run."

-o-

 **There you have it! Chapter 22. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

"Sweet dreams baby girl," Lorelai whispered, blowing her daughter a final kiss goodnight as she pulled Rory's bedroom door shut.

Turning on her heel, her gaze landed squarely on Luke, a twinkle in his eye as he sauntered toward her, waving a bottle of wine in one hand and holding two wine glasses in the other. Lorelai didn't recognize the Shiraz as a vestige of their new year celebrations, suggesting he had purchased it specially for the evening.

When she cocked an eyebrow curiously, he murmured, "A little birdy stopped by the diner today and told me you might have some news worth celebrating tonight."

She flushed at his words, a broad smile taking over her lips as he continued to advance on her.

"That little birdy wouldn't happen to own the Independence Inn and go by the name of Mia, would it?"

"A good reporter never reveals his sources," he answered in a gravelly voice, leaning forward to peck her lips and smiling when she let her hands fall to the back pockets of his jeans. "Anything you want to share with the class?"

"Wine first," she replied decisively, giving his ass a gentle tap and settling her eyes on the bottle of red.

"As you wish."

He gave her one last kiss before returning to the counter to pour them a glass each. He handed hers over wordlessly and tucked the bottle beneath his arm, accepting her proffered hand and following her down the hall. She darted into the lounge briefly, throwing a thick blanket over her shoulder and pulling him toward the front door.

"Outside?" he asked skeptically, conscious of the cool January temperature.

"I wanna snuggle up with my guy."

He capitulated at her pout, but insisted she grab her coat and knit cap as they passed through the foyer.

They settled on the porch swing, Lorelai hoisting her legs up beneath her and curling into his embrace.

"So…don't keep me in suspense. What's the big news?" he asked, tucking the blanket in around them and taking a sip of wine.

"Mia didn't tell you?"

"Nope, she just said it was worthy of cracking open a bottle. I've been waiting for you to bring it up all night without any luck so now I've had to resort to beating it out of you."

"More like getting me plastered," she snorted, gesturing to the wine.

"Whatever works," he chuckled, chinking his glass against hers with a wink.

Turning to face him, Lorelai bit her lower lip in a mixture of excitement and hesitation.

"I would have said something earlier but when Rory came home from school with her fancy academic achievement award this afternoon I didn't want to steal her thunder," she explained somewhat bashfully.

"Steal away; the floor is yours."

Nervous excitement practically emanated from her body and she looked at him through the veil of her eyelashes.

"I'm going to go back to school," she breathed quickly, a touch of pink gracing her cheeks.

"You're _what_?"

"I'm going to study hotel management. Or business. Maybe both; I'm not sure yet. Mia floated the idea with me today and has offered for the Independence Inn to cover the cost."

A broad smile overtook his face and he squeezed her tightly, happy laughter rumbling from his chest.

"That's amazing Lorelai. Congratulations."

She beamed at his reaction, her eyes sparkling with elation. "Yeah? You think it's a good idea?"

"I think it's great. You're happy?"

"Really happy," she agreed, unable to wipe the smile from her face. "I've always thought I'd like to go to college someday, but I've never had the time between working and raising Rory. Even then, there's been the issue of cost. But now Rory's a little older and getting more independent, I think it might be the right time."

He offered her a proud smile before pressing a kiss to her temple.

"You don't think it's silly?" she asked tentatively, her eyes dropping downward.

"Of course not. I think it's amazing. _You'll_ be amazing. Are you having doubts?" he murmured, running his hand up and down her arm lightly.

"No…well, maybe a little," she confessed sheepishly, not bothering to hide her misgivings. Luke always had a funny way of picking up on her concerns, so there was no point to pretending otherwise.

He looked at her expectantly, encouraging her to elaborate.

"I'm just a bit nervous I guess. I mean, what if I flunk completely? It's been a while since I've cracked open a text book, and I really don't want to let Mia down. And then there's Rory. Mia wants to send me on a few short management courses initially before I move onto the college curriculum. They're interstate so it means being away from her for a night or two."

"Well you guys have spent a night apart plenty of times before, right? She'll be fine," Luke reasoned, his voice soothing. "And as for that first point, I'm not even dignifying that with a proper response. You're one of the smartest people I know Lorelai, not to mention determined. You've got this."

"Maybe," she muttered, not entirely convinced. "People said the same thing about Marie Curie and it doesn't take an oncologist to tell you how well that ended for her."

"Lorelai," he scolded.

At her impish grin, he rolled his eyes. His scowl didn't last long before he raised his glass and gestured for her to do the same.

Holding her gaze, he stated, "A toast: To my beautiful, driven, intelligent college girl, who I have no doubt can do anything she sets her mind to. Here's to kicking butt and blowing all of those other schmucks out of the water."

They chinked glasses, Lorelai smiling broadly and leaning in to accept his kiss with a whispered thank you.

She took another sip of wine, running her finger around the rim of the glass thoughtfully as she added, "I'll need to make sure Rory's okay with it before I apply. The short courses in Washington DC don't have any pre-requisites but I've got a few hoops to jump through to get accepted into the community college. That's _if_ I get accepted."

"You will," he answered confidently. "Which college?"

"Hartford. The plan is to knock the short courses over in DC in the next few months, then hopefully enroll in the fall college semester."

He nodded. "I'm sure Rory will be more than okay with it. I don't know anyone who likes the idea of school more than she does."

"True," Lorelai conceded with a smile. "The thought of leaving her for a night when I'm interstate still irks me though. I mean, I know she's had plenty of sleepovers before but I've never been this far from her. I'm usually no more than a half hour drive away."

"Well, lucky for you, she's got a whole town looking out for her. Not to mention a diner owner who will kick anyone's ass if they dare lay a finger on her."

Lorelai nodded her head in acknowledgement. "I know. And Mia will take such good care of her. I just can't help but worry."

"Mia's going to take her?" he asked quietly, hoping his voice sounded casual.

"Yeah, that's part of the agreement. She offered to mind her on the odd occasion I have to go away. You know, pick her up from school, take her to dance classes, organize dinner for her at the inn, get her into bed."

"Right, of course," he nodded, suddenly finding the chevron print on the blanket very interesting.

A moment later, she inquired, "If I ask you something, do you promise to answer truthfully?"

He regarded her dubiously but agreed nonetheless.

"Do you think I'm taking too much if I accept this? I mean, it's a big investment for the inn and I don't want to take advantage of Mia. She's already been so generous and I can't help but think she's doing this more for me than her."

She was grateful when he paused to mull over the question rather than answering immediately in the negative.

Rubbing his jaw, he said slowly, "I think you're overlooking the fact that there's a lot in this for Mia as well. I mean, there are government incentives for this kind of thing, so she'll get some kind of employer kickback rather than shelling out all the costs. And then there's the fact she's getting a highly qualified assistant manager, and reducing her staff turnover because you'll be sticking around for the duration of your course and maybe even longer. We both know she thinks of you like a daughter, but at the end of the day, I've gotta say this just makes good business sense."

"You really think so?" she asked quietly.

"I really think so," he affirmed, covering her hand with his. Clearing his throat, he said softly, "You know, if you're worried about accepting so much from her, I could always mind Rory while you're away. It's one thing you could take off Mia's plate."

She turned to look at him, appreciation shining in her eyes.

"You, Luke Danes, are a sweetheart, you know that?"

He scowled, shaking his head. "I mean it though. I'm happy to take care of her. Do the pick-ups and drop-offs and everything. Whatever she needs."

"Oh babe, you don't need to do that, and you know that's not the reason I raised this with you, right?"

"I know," he acknowledged, pulling her tighter against him. "But I…I'd kind of like to do it. If you and Rory are okay with it, that is. It probably wouldn't be that different to our normal routine anyway, except you wouldn't be here with us. I don't want to overstep. I know she's not my kid, but…I just…it's like she kind of is, you know? Sorry, this is coming out wrong," he sighed, struggling to convert his thoughts into coherent sentences.

She rested her head against his shoulder, happy to let him go on in his own time.

"I don't want to be the guy that dates her mom," he said finally, groaning when he felt her stiffen against him.

Willing her to understand what he meant, he maintained his hold on her when she reared back, desperate to get his point across.

"Ah geez, why am I so bad at this?" he moaned. "What I mean is I want to be _more_ than just the guy who dates her mom. More to her. Does that make sense? I want to be the guy that dusts her off when she scrapes her knee and the guy that holds her hand when she's scared and the guy that makes her blueberry pancakes with choc chips for breakfast because they're her favorite, and the guy that reads her David Copperfeather….or Copperfield…whatever the god damn name is."

He waved one hand around as he spoke, coming dangerously close to sloshing wine over the rim of his glass as he stumbled over the words.

Lorelai immediately softened at his declaration, her heart melting just a little. "You are Luke. You're all of those things to her."

"I want to be the guy she can count on to take care of her, even when her mom's out of town," he said determinedly. "These last few months…it's like the three of us have become this, I don't know, sort of family unit I guess. It feels right to have her hanging out at the diner after school and running through her spelling words and waking up in the same house. I know I'm asking a lot and I've got no right to because she's not my kid, so I get it if you'd prefer she stayed with Mia while you're away, but I can't help it. I just want her around, you know? On the days you're home and the days you're not. I want to know she's safe and I want to do all the boring, mundane crap that comes with day-to-day family life, because hell, she feels like my kid in all the ways that count."

Lorelai blinked back the moisture pooling in her eyes at his words, offering him a tremulous smile. "Luke," she whispered, cupping his scruffy jaw in one hand. Abandoning her wine glass, she crawled into his lap and kissed him softly, conveying exactly how she felt when words escaped her. A part of her longed to feel those three important words spill from her lips, but as always, she failed to conjure them, her rational, guarded side forever at war with her emotions.

They kissed for several minutes, slowly and deliberately, taking their fill of one another and reveling in simply being together. Luke pulled the blanket tighter around them, drawing her further into their warm cocoon.

When they broke apart, Lorelai pressed her forehead to his, breathing in his air.

"For someone who claims he's not very good with words, you sure know how to bring a girl to her knees," she breathed.

He pecked her lips, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and allowing his hands to come to rest on her hips.

"So you don't mind?" he asked softly.

"Mind? I don't know many solo moms that would mind if the boyfriend they adore practically begged them to let him dote on their kid."

He smiled then; a warm, genuine smile that stretched all the way to his eyes.

"I've been trying to avoid overloading you with kiddie duty," Lorelai admitted. "I hate even asking you to pick her up from school, so there was no way I was going to dump her with you overnight. It's not that I don't trust you; I just don't want to burden you."

"You honestly think Rory's a burden to me?" he asked with such incredulity that not even the biggest skeptic would have doubted his thoughts on the matter. "Lorelai, you know first-hand the power those damn puppy dog eyes of hers can wield. She could talk me into becoming the next Spice Girl and I'd bend over backward to make it happen."

She giggled, twirling her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck. His hair was longer than usual, and while he had taken to grumbling about the need to get it cut all week, Lorelai secretly hoped he held off a little longer.

"I always thought they needed a Grumpy Spice," she teased, rubbing her nose against his. "You'd look awfully cute in a flannel mini-skirt."

At his mutinous glare, she tapped her palm against his chest and noted, "I'm impressed you know who the Spice Girls are."

"By-product of spending time with two trash-mag obsessed Gilmores," he grumbled in explanation.

Drawing back from her, his eyes sought hers as he said seriously, "I want to do all those normal, everyday things for Rory…not just when you're away. I would happily do _anything_ for that kid. For you," he added earnestly.

"Anything?" she asked mischievously, her eyes sparkling.

"No chili-topped Pringles," he barked sternly. "Or quadruple-strength coffee," he added as her mouth began to open again.

She pouted, giggling when he tugged on her protruding lip with his teeth.

"How about hosting a town festival in the diner?"

"No."

"Wearing matching jogging suits?"

"No."

"Serenading me in public with a Celine Dion track?"

"Not a chance."

"Buying me tampons at the pharmacy?"

"Lorelai!"

-o-

He practically had to manhandle her to get her in the Jeep, and even then, it didn't deter Lorelai from begging for one last hug goodbye.

"You're going to miss your flight," Luke groused, but he waved Rory forward nonetheless and watched as Lorelai drew her in tight and bestowed yet another kiss upon her through the open car window.

All it took was a hopeful glance in his direction for him to submit to a third farewell kiss, and he lingered against her lips a little longer than was strictly necessary before drawing back. So what if she knew the scowl on his face was all for show?

"Go on, get out of here. And take it easy on the road with all this snow about. We want you back in one piece," he told her sternly, stepping clear of the vehicle to stand beside Rory.

An elated, somewhat nervous grin lit up Lorelai's face as she started the engine.

"Knock 'em dead!" Luke called, joining Rory in waving goodbye. Lorelai beeped the horn as she pulled out of the drive, her eyes flicking to the rear-view mirror to take in the sight of her daughter chasing the Jeep and waving exuberantly, her smile wide.

"Do you think Mom will meet the president while she's in DC?" Rory asked excitedly, skipping back toward Luke.

"If anyone could talk their way into a meet-and-greet at the White House, it'd be your mom," he acknowledged wryly, a smile tugging at his lips.

He shouldered her pink school backpack, eyeing his watch before pointing out, "We better hit the road too, kiddo. You'll be late for class if we don't get a move on."

While Luke had wanted to drive Lorelai to the airport to send her off on her first interstate management course, the flight time had conflicted with Rory's school schedule, so he'd reluctantly conceded it was best Lorelai made her own way there. Her flight home was only touching down in Hartford in the late evening, and regardless of how eager Rory was to greet her mother on her return, it made sense for the 11-year-old to head to bed at her usual time rather than being dragged out to the airport at some ungodly hour.

After checking Rory's seat belt was buckled, Luke made sure the duffel that held her dance gear was settled on the bench seat between them, determined to pull off his assigned duties without a hitch.

 _School drop-off; school pick-up; afternoon tea; dance lesson; homework; dinner; shower; teeth; story; bed,_ he recited silently. _Maybe some hot chocolate on the couch. Extra marshmallows._

As he hugged her goodbye at the school gates and reiterated he'd be back to collect her in the afternoon, he paid no mind to the striking sense of warmth in his chest – a combination of something that, if he'd stopped hard enough to think about it, resembled something like pride mixed with happiness. For a horrifying moment, he wondered if he'd embarrassed her in front of her classmates, but when she turned to wave animatedly at him as he pulled out of his parking space, he felt a rush of reassurance that left him beaming from ear to ear.

The work day passed uneventfully, and he found himself absently scrubbing dishes and questioning if Lorelai had touched down safely. He wondered whether her classmates had worked out exactly what a live-wire they had in their midst just yet.

Not that he'd ever admit it to her, but in situations such as this, there was a part of him that recognized the merit of those damn cell phones she coveted so much. No matter how much she begged, he wasn't ready to succumb to buying her what was likely to be a radiation-infused brick. God knows, she'd have the thing permanently attached to her ear 24/7 if given half a chance.

Nonetheless, he longed to know that she had found her way from the airport to the conference venue without incident, but contented himself with the knowledge that she'd promised to find a pay phone and check in during the afternoon.

Sure enough, the call came at around 2pm, and her excited tone was enough to tell him she was 17 kinds of happy with how the day was progressing.

"I'm proud of you," he told her quietly, ignoring Gypsy's demands for more coffee and the mass of diner patrons waiting to place their orders. He could practically feel her smile down the phone line, and granted her the freedom to babble on spiritedly for as long as she liked, customers be damned.

When it came time to collect Rory from school, he quickly began to regret arriving a healthy 10 minutes early, finding a need to fend off several flirtatious school moms. He was grateful when Rory materialized in the building entryway, and he listened patiently as she detailed the facts she'd learned and the books she'd borrowed from the school library as they wound their way toward the diner on foot.

After demolishing her afternoon snack, the 11-year-old scurried up the stairs to Luke's apartment to change into her leotard. He knew something was wrong the moment she reemerged from behind the curtain, her face tense with worry.

"Rory?" he asked sharply, panic gripping him.

"They're not in here!" she exclaimed, gesturing to her duffel bag helplessly.

"What's not in there?" he asked, abandoning the coffee pot with a clatter.

"My hair ties! Mom must have forgotten to pack them."

"Your hair ties," he repeated faintly, regaining his ability to breathe at the realization it was something so inconsequential. "Okay, well that's not so bad is it? I mean, you can dance wearing your plastic head thing right?" he questioned, gesturing to the purple polka dot headband that held her hair out of her face.

"But Miss Patty says we have to wear a bun to rehearsals this month and those are the _rules_ , Luke. I don't want to get in _trouble_ ," she breathed, her eyes wide as if the very prospect of rule-breaking was on par with high treason.

He managed to hold back his chuckle, instead arranging his face in what he hoped was a sympathetic expression and pointing out logically, "You know, I think Patty will let you off the hook this one time kiddo."

Her stricken expression told him that was the wrong response, because _rules_ _Luke_ , and he ran a hand through his hair wearily as he contemplated a more satisfactory answer for one Miss Goody-two-shoes. In his experience, females in general were hard enough to get his head around, let alone pre-teenage girls.

"Well I guess we could go home and fetch them?" he wagered tentatively, desperately hoping his second attempt at a solution was closer to the mark.

"But there's no time!" she cried, and he noticed her voice raised an octave or two as she eyed the clock and panic began to set in.

"Ah geez. Rory, it's okay, really," he soothed, crouching down to her level and giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He racked his brain for any insight into what Lorelai would do in this situation. The answer came to him immediately – she wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place, because her ever-present storage closet of a handbag would contain several hair ties coated in Oreo crumbs, in addition to the kitchen sink.

Desperate to alleviate the worry from Rory's eyes, he cleared his throat and bluffed, "No need to worry. I…er…I've got a plan."

"You do?" she asked hopefully, and he willed himself to come up with something quickly.

"Er…yeah….I mean…" he trailed off, striding toward the counter and praying he'd find something useful tucked in the shelves underneath. His eyes landed on the cluster of rubber bands he generally used for grouping bills and his heart leapt. "We'll use a rubber band instead, okay?"

"Give the girl a fightin' chance sugar," Babette rasped from her table near the register, shaking her head pointedly. "You think you've got problems now? Nothin' worse than trying to take that out an hour from now when it's all tangled."

"Babette," Luke hissed as Rory resumed biting her lip anxiously. "I don't see you coming up with anything better."

At the older woman's shrug, he sighed exasperatedly. Throwing one last hopeful glance beneath the counter, he rubbed the shooting pain that emerged in his temple and begrudgingly accepted that he'd need to come up with a different approach.

"Rory, come with me," he instructed, jerking his head toward the curtain. At least away from prying eyes he wouldn't be judged for his decidedly sub-par parenting. He stomped up the stairs to his apartment, unsure of his plan of attack – that is, until he caught sight of his faithful toolbox. _Familiar territory at last._

"Grab a seat," he mumbled, removing the lid and rifling through the assortment of tools and nails.

"What are you doing?" Rory asked skeptically, a hint of apprehension in her tone.

"Trust me, Squirt. I've got this," he assured her confidently, clasping a set of pliers as well as a couple of thin, black items in one hand. _How hard could this be, right?_

Shooting him one last furtive glance, Rory resigned herself to the inevitable and settled back in the dining chair. Time was of the essence, after all.

He twisted her hair up in a way he hoped was similar to the practiced movements he'd seen his mother perform for Liz a time or two, then flew by the seat of his pants as he did his best to stabilize the messy bundle of hair. With one final tug and cut of the pliers, he stepped back and settled his hands on his hips, admiring his handy work. Messy, sure, but a bun nonetheless.

"Good to go, Squirt," he declared smugly, confident she could prance or pirouette to her heart's content with no adverse side effects.

Unorthodox or not, no one could deny the effectiveness of cable ties.

-o-

March rolled in with a vengeance, bringing with it freezing temperatures and copious amounts of snow.

As always, Lorelai found herself grateful for Luke's presence, particularly after he spent hour upon hour shoveling snow from her front walk, his cheeks red from a combination of exertion and the biting wind.

It seemed most everyone in Stars Hollow had picked up a dreaded cold or flu as winter progressed, and while Lorelai's dose had come and gone a few weeks earlier, Rory was only just at the tail end of her affliction. Three boxes of tissues and countless batches of chicken soup later, the 11-year-old's nose had thankfully stopped running, her energy had returned and a persistent cough was the only remnant of her less-than-welcome head cold.

With her third trip to Washington D.C. looming, Lorelai felt better knowing Rory was on the mend. She'd initially been hesitant to leave her, despite recognizing Luke was more than capable of taking care of her and keeping up a steady supply of homemade soup.

Returning to school after a four-day hiatus, Rory assured the adults that she was much improved and insisted there was no need for Lorelai to cancel her trip interstate. The trio said their goodbyes in the foyer of the Crap Shack, an ever-protective Luke preventing Rory from stepping out into the cold air unnecessarily.

He held Lorelai to him tightly, squeezing her waist and urging her to stay safe before kissing her gently. The bureau was predicting several inches of snowfall in DC and like usual, he couldn't help worrying about her, no matter what efforts she took to convince him otherwise.

"You got a fresh supply of cable ties at the ready?" Lorelai teased, giggling against his chest.

He scowled, moving his hands to her shoulders as he drew back and demanded hotly, "Who told you about that?"

She trailed one finger across the stubble lining his cheek and laughed, "Miss Patty. The dance moms have nicknamed you MacGyver."

"Ah geez," he grimaced, his face flushing.

"If you can work such wonders with cable ties, imagine all the things you could do with duct tape!" she goaded.

"Lorelai," he huffed grumpily.

"Relax, I happen to think action heroes are sexy," she whispered into his ear, her breath hot and undeniably alluring. She placed a soft kiss against his skin before returning to his lips for one last peck, both of her palms pressed to his chest.

Returning her voice to a normal volume, she said suggestively, "For the record, your toolbox is welcome here any time. I happen to be a big fan of its capabilities."

The double meaning was lost on Rory, but the mischievous glint in Lorelai's eyes informed him every word was uttered with intent, and he hastened to get her out the door before she damn near gave him a heart attack.

He and Rory waved from the window, and when they were sure she was safely on her way to the airport, Luke set about cajoling the 11-year-old into wearing another two layers of warm clothing beneath her school uniform. They compromised with one, and Rory skipped off to her room to change while he finished washing the breakfast dishes.

As the day wore on, Luke couldn't help the niggling feeling that something wasn't quite right. He'd personally walked Rory to her classroom and made sure she was settled before taking off for the diner, so he assured himself she was in the safe hands of Mrs. Fletcher – someone he knew and trusted after having had her as his own teacher many years prior.

That left Lorelai, and a sense of fear and dread gripped his stomach at the thought of something having happened to her. He tried to brush the notion aside, chalking it up to an overactive imagination and his penchant for worrying unnecessarily. But when he absentmindedly burned Reverend Skinner's beef patty for the third time running and Caesar was forced to intervene, Luke conceded that he should at least make a call to set his mind at ease.

He wasn't able to speak with Lorelai directly, but he called the conference center where her course was being held, and the reception desk confirmed she'd arrived safely and was currently mid-way through a lecture on bookkeeping. That made him snort a little, and he briefly wondered whether she was merely in danger of dying of boredom.

Reassured, he pushed his concerns aside and reminded himself that she'd promised to call and check in once she made it to her hotel room that evening. It would be the second time she'd stayed the night in DC – the first visit having just been a day trip – and with all having gone well previously, there was no reason to believe this time would be any different.

By the time the lunch rush began to slow to a steady crawl, he'd convinced himself he was being irrational.

That's when the phone call came and he felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

-o-

 **There you have it! What did you think? Any guesses about the news Luke received? Will do my best to finish the next chapter quickly!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Important author's note:** Hi guys, before you read this chapter, I would highly recommend jogging your memory and re-reading the last one I posted as this installment is a continuation of that. Chapter 23 was one of my shorter ones, so it shouldn't slow you down too much. That said, if you really can't be bothered here's the Cliff Notes version:

-X- Lorelai jumped at the opportunity to go back to school, enrolling in some management courses in Washington DC and intending to apply for a place at Hartford Community College.

-X- Luke offered to mind Rory each time Lorelai went away.

-X- Lorelai was initially hesitant to leave on her third trip to DC after Rory came down with a head cold, but she reconsidered when the 11-year-old got over the ailment in a few days and returned to school under the watchful eye of Mrs. Fletcher.

-X- Luke had a gut feeling that something was wrong with the Gilmores – a worry that was exacerbated by the impending snowstorm in DC.

-X- He received a phone call at the diner heralding bad news, which is where chapter 24 begins...

Also, please keep in mind that I'm not a doctor, so while I've done my best to research any medical content in this chapter, I'm far from being an expert. Happy reading!

-o-

The silence was deafening.

He'd heard that saying before, of course – in books, thrown into idle conversation, and in those over-dramatized TV soaps that Lorelai insisted on watching on repeat. But it wasn't until Luke felt the thunderous whir of, well, _nothing_ , pounding in his ears that he truly understood its meaning.

Customers moved across the diner floor in a blur of colors and shapes, and still, the tireless hum persisted, drowning out any traces of conversation or cutlery scraping on plates.

He vaguely registered his nails biting into the flesh of his palm, one hand curled in a tight fist, but any remaining conscious thought evaded him and he simply stood immobile, one stationary being in a sea of movement.

He swallowed, and for some strange reason his throat felt hot and raw and rough. The fact Caesar had suddenly materialized in front of him and was making some kind of strange waving motion was nothing short of bizarre. The cook's lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. And why did he look so worried?

"Luke? Are you there? Luke?"

The muffled calls seem to cut through the din and register in some far-reaching corner of his brain, and he found himself staring down at the phone receiver in his hand numbly, feeling somehow detached from his own body. It wasn't Caesar's voice he could hear, but a woman's.

"Luke, you need to get to Hartford Memorial. Can you hear me? You need to meet her there. They've taken her by ambulance."

Pulling the phone to his ear, he croaked, "hospital," only managing to get the word out on his second attempt.

"That's right. You need to get to the hospital. Have someone drive you Luke. I don't think you should be getting behind the wheel, okay?"

It struck him as odd that his former teacher's voice – normally so authoritative and calm – was now laced with urgency and alarm.

He began to ponder the thought further, but out of nowhere, the panic hit him like a ton of bricks, spurring him to action.

As he went to slam down the receiver, he heard one final plea down the phone line. "And Luke, whatever you do, please don't tell anyone I called. I'm breaking school privacy policy, but she needs you with her."

-o-

By the time he made it through the doors of Hartford Memorial Hospital, Luke was in a blind panic.

He darted past the group of seniors blocking the foyer and sprinted toward the closest counter, throwing his hands up against his baseball cap when he realized it was unattended. Spinning around wildly, he barreled toward a larger reception desk, his eyes wide and his heart pounding in his chest.

"Rory Gilmore, I need to see Rory Gilmore," he demanded, slapping his hands on the desk insistently.

"Just a moment sir," the receptionist replied calmly, gesturing to the computer to assure him she was on the job. "Gilmore you said?"

He nodded, his mind running through seven different scenarios involving a sickly Rory, each more terrifying than the last.

"I'm sorry. I don't have a patient under that name. Are you sure you're at the right hospital?" the woman asked kindly.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Luke growled, and he immediately regretted the harshness in his tone. "I'm sorry, I…" he trailed off, feeling his throat constrict.

"It's okay," she said softly, long accustomed to dealing with anxiety-ridden family and friends. "Tell me, do you know what ward she's in? Perhaps that might help to locate her."

"I…I…I don't know," he answered in a fluster, shaking his head. "She just….they took her from school. The ambulance. She had an asthma attack."

His voice broke on the last words and he ached to hold Rory to him. "Please, you've got to find her. I need to know she's okay. She's only 11."

The receptionist scanned her computer for a few agonizing seconds, finally shaking her head apologetically and reiterating, "I'm sorry sir. There's definitely no one here under that name. It's possible she's still in transit and not entered into the system yet, or perhaps I've spelt her name incorrectly."

"Lorelai," Luke blurted, the penny finally dropping. "I mean she's Rory, but she's Lorelai. Lorelai Leigh," he rambled nonsensically. "After her mother."

The mention of Lorelai made his stomach plummet even further and he desperately wished to erase the miles between them.

"Okay sir. You're her father?"

"Yes. I mean no. I…er…." He pressed his face into his hands restlessly, willing his mouth to function properly. "I'm looking after her today."

"You're not family?" the woman pressed.

"No, I…"

She sighed, her face etched with empathy. "I'm sorry. Unfortunately, I can't allow you through. She's a minor and at this stage of her treatment, hospital policy prevents anyone but immediate family and legal guardians from seeing her."

Dumbfounded, Luke gawked at her incredulously, his temper rising. "But she's in my care," he growled, desperate to convey his point. "Her mom's interstate and I'm looking after her. I need to see her!" he demanded.

"I'm sorry sir, really, I am," the worker murmured apologetically.

"No. No, no, no, no, no," Luke countered, shaking his head vehemently. "This is not happening. That's my kid in there!" he yelled, his voice rising several octaves. "You're gonna go in there, you're gonna tell those god damn doctors to stick their hospital policy firmly where the sun doesn't shine, and you're gonna let me hold my little girl's hand," he roared, his wild hand movements emphasizing his point. He turned around as if to charge toward Rory's bed, but fast realized he had no idea where he was going.

The receptionist's remorseful look said it all, and Luke nearly dropped to his knees, his muscles shaky and unreliable.

"I need….I need to see her," he choked out, his voice breaking. "I don't know whether she's alive or…you need to tell me she's okay. I need someone to tell me she's okay," he begged, his eyes pleading with her to take mercy on him. "I need to make sure she's not scared."

The woman clamped her palm over his hand reassuringly and held his gaze. "I'll try and find out if she's okay," she murmured. "I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best to have a nurse tell you what they can. In the meantime, is there someone I can call? Her mother? Father?"

The irony wasn't lost on Luke that Christopher could swan in without a second thought, despite him having not bothered to show his face in months. He wondered briefly whether he should call him, but then remembered he didn't have a contact number, so brushed the thought aside.

The more pressing matter was that Lorelai was still a world away, and in the rushed moments before he'd fled the diner, he hadn't been able to get through to her by phone. He'd left an urgent message with both the conference center and her hotel, but the course attendant had informed him all the students had been encouraged to leave early to escape the pending snowstorm in DC.

With Rory's school having attempted to reach Lorelai at the Independence Inn, Mia was already aware there was an emergency – but lacked details – when Luke had called, and he'd begged her to continue trying to reach Lorelai while he sped to the hospital.

Not knowing whether Mia had successfully gotten through, he accepted the receptionist's offer to call the older woman at the inn, then tried Lorelai again when he discovered she still hadn't gotten the message. Why hadn't he bought her a god damn cell phone?

Feeling utterly defeated, Luke allowed the staff member to direct him to the pediatric ward on the fourth floor, where she assured him Rory would soon be relocated from Accident and Emergency. She was alive, he told himself with relief. He didn't know more than that, but her placement in the ward at least assured him she was breathing.

He paced the floor of the pediatric waiting room, continually quizzing the staff for information and repeatedly being shut down. A kindly older nurse appeared to take pity on him, offering him a reassuring squeeze of his arm from time to time and continuing to dial Lorelai's now-familiar hotel number every few minutes from her chair behind the nurses' station.

The anxious feeling in his gut amplified even further when he caught sight of the waiting room TV, a news bulletin flashing up coverage of hazardous weather conditions in Baltimore and DC and warning of additional snowfall. He couldn't catch all of the detail as the machine was on mute, but the vision was enough to leave him sick to his stomach with worry. _Where the hell was Lorelai?_ All he could do was pray she was safe.

After one long, arduous hour of fear and angst, the nurse handed him a Styrofoam cup filled with hot tea and quietly informed him that Rory was recovering well, her breathing steady. He knew the worker was already toeing the line by providing him with any information, but that didn't stop him pushing for more, desperate to know everything about Rory's condition. When that failed, he continually begged to be taken to her room, knowing that there was no way he could simply sidle down the hallways to find her without having a nurse buzz him through the locked door.

He felt a mixture of relief, helplessness and gratitude when Mia appeared at his side, the older woman clutching Colonel Clucker as per his phone request. He hugged her tightly, thanking her for coming and doing his best to comfort her as she tried to make sense of the limited information available to them.

He felt a little better when the nurse agreed to take the plush toy into Rory, knowing it would bring her some comfort when he couldn't be there to reassure her himself. For the briefest of moments, he'd entertained locating a phone book and calling her grandparents so she would at least have someone to sit with her, but memories of her apprehensive demeanor in Emily's presence had made him decide against it; the last thing Rory needed was more stress or worry.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and Luke could have sworn he'd been there for days, when in reality, only hours had passed and night was just beginning to fall. Mia sat patiently beside him, both lost in their thoughts and neither feeling the urge to talk.

His heart leapt in his chest when the nurse stood up from her chair suddenly, using one hand to wave at him and gesture emphatically to the phone receiver clamped to her ear. _Lorelai_.

He rushed to the desk, overhearing the nurse say, "Yes, that's right Ms Gilmore. I can assure you she is okay, and we've got her breathing under control. Yes, I'm sure. That's right. If you're willing to hold for a moment, I can arrange to have a doctor come and speak to you. Yes, yes, of course."

Luke longed to speak to his girlfriend, but knowing that she was okay, he had no doubt his immediate focus needed to be on comforting Rory. Lorelai wouldn't have it any other way.

He tapped his fingers impatiently, desperately hoping the nurse would seek permission for him to be by Rory's side. Mia's hand on his back did little to calm him, but finally the nurse raised his plight with Lorelai, giving him a nod of assent and mouthing 'Room 413' before continuing on with the call. He sprinted toward the door as the nurse buzzed it open, looking back at Mia just long enough to croak, "I'll call her soon. Tell her…tell her I love her."

That would have to be enough, for now.

-o-

Luke had spent his fair share of time in hospitals.

The needles and gruesome injuries never failed to turn his stomach, but even they paled in comparison to seeing his loved ones sick and helpless.

Over the years, he'd tried to forget the image of his father nestled against the too-white sheets, his ailing body pale and listless. But even with the memory forever etched into his brain, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Rory, her tiny frame lost in a sea of machines and stark white walls.

His breath caught in his throat, and he had to remind himself that no matter how much his knees threatened to buckle, more than anything, she needed him to be strong.

She didn't notice his presence straight away, her attention focused on the nurse at her bedside. It was only when the man offered Luke a polite smile in greeting that Rory turned to see him standing in the doorway. She paused for one or two beats as if taking him in, then her face crumpled, as if she'd been using every bit of strength to keep her tears at bay but was now powerless to stop the flood of emotion.

She reached for him wordlessly, one arm curled tightly around Colonel Clucker and the other desperately seeking the warmth of Luke's embrace as sob after sob racked her body. She wept openly, fat tears falling from her big, blue eyes and tugging at his heart.

"Sssshhhh," he soothed, enveloping her in his arms and stroking her hair gently. "It's okay Rory, it's okay," he repeated mindlessly, desperate to relieve her anxiety. "I'm here. You're okay."

She clung to him, her little fists holding tight to the flannel of his shirt and her head buried in his chest.

"You're okay sweetheart, everything's going to be alright," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her crown and breathing in her sugary sweet scent. "I've got you."

She refused to relinquish her hold on him, so with some semi-awkward maneuvering, Luke managed to slip onto the hospital bed beside her, careful not to dislodge any equipment or rest his weight on her.

He held her for a long while, stroking her hair and murmuring words of reassurance that, to his surprise, flowed effortlessly. She felt fragile and impossibly small pressed against his side, his shirt absorbing her tears until she could cry no longer.

After an extended period of silence – save for the occasional hiccup on Rory's part – he asked softly, "How are you feeling?"

She played with one of the buttons on his shirt for a moment, finally swallowing and whispering shakily, "I feel okay now. The doctor says I had an asthma attack."

He nodded, his hands tracing over her arm soothingly. "You want to tell me what happened?"

Rory blinked, a single tear leaking down her cheek.

"I was in gym class and we had to run around for our warm-up. I was coughing a bit, and after a while my chest started to feel all tight. Then it was like I couldn't breathe…I just couldn't get air in."

Her eyes started to well with tears again and he continued moving his fingertips in steady circles, offering her the comfort she needed.

"And then?"

"I don't remember much. I don't really know how I got in the ambulance. They put this funny mask on my face and I could hear the siren. I didn't even get to say goodbye to Lane," she added seriously, prompting him to smile a little.

"I'm sorry you've had such a rough day, and I'm so glad you're okay. You scared me, kid," he growled softly, squeezing her side. "Mia and I have been worried sick. We've been trying to see you since you came in, but the hospital wouldn't let us until they got hold of your mom and got her consent, so we've been in the waiting room for hours."

"Mom!" she said urgently, immediately trying to sit up. "Is she here?"

Luke gently pulled her back down to the mattress, offering her a sympathetic look. "Not yet, sorry sweetheart. She's still in DC. We only just managed to get to get a message through to her at the hotel, so she's still hours away. But I'm sure she'll be here as soon as she can. Maybe we can catch her on the phone if you're feeling up to it."

He decided it was best not to mention the snowstorm, at least not yet. Based on the news coverage he'd seen, he suspected all flights out of Ronald National Airport would be grounded, but he figured there was no point in worrying Rory, especially when he hadn't yet spoken to Lorelai.

Before they could continue their conversation further, a lion hand puppet appeared in the doorway, prompting Rory to smile a watery smile as its mane waved wildly. "Perfect, I finally found Roar-ry," its operator growled, turning the 11-year-old's name into a loud roar.

Luke couldn't help but smile at Rory's obvious delight, and he offered the doctor a grateful look when she materialized from the hall, pulling the puppet from her hand.

"How's our brave little cub feeling tonight?" the doctor asked casually, walking across the room and pulling a chart from the end of Rory's bed.

"Good thanks Doctor A," Rory answered quietly.

"Not feeling the need to cough as much?"

Rory shook her head.

"Great! Good to see the medicine is working its magic. The nurses say you've been a model patient by the way. You must be going too easy on them," she teased.

Rory shook her head shyly, but beamed at the praise nonetheless.

"Now, your friend, on the other hand…" she began, flicking her head toward Luke. "He's been pretty eager to see you all afternoon. I think he might have made the nurses earn their keep tonight."

She finished the sentence with a wink to show her words were meant in jest, but it didn't stop the color from rising in Luke's cheeks.

"Guilty," he muttered sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

The doctor just laughed it off, lowering her voice conspiratorially and casting a glance over her shoulder as she said, "Never been a big fan of hospital policy myself. In fact, sometimes I think a cuddle from a loved one is the best medicine for the kiddies on my ward. What do you think Rory?"

Rory nodded and smiled up at Luke, enjoying the feel of his arms wrapped securely around her.

The doctor perused the chart quickly once again before tucking it back in its holder. Clearing her throat, she offered the duo a flash of white teeth and joked, "Well, the good news is there's no need to amputate an arm or leg today. I'm pleased to say your vitals are looking A-OK young lady."

Rory giggled, then nodded her assent when the doctor asked to speak with Luke in the hall. He followed her out, watching as she stuffed the hand puppet into a pocket in her white coat.

Following his gaze, she laughed as she explained, "I didn't think you'd need Mufasa here to talk you through the finer points of Rory's condition."

He snorted, immediately feeling some of the tension slipping from his shoulders.

"Sorry, let me introduce myself properly. I'm Dr. Anders."

"Luke Danes," he responded, offering a hand to shake. "How is Rory doing? Is she really okay?"

Noting the urgency in his tone, Dr. Anders did her best to reassure him with a warm smile, nodding her head.

"Rory has responded to her treatment well, and we're very pleased with her progress. I gather you haven't been told too much at this point, so I'll do my best to walk you through everything and answer any questions. I've just relayed all this over the phone to her mother, but Ms. Gilmore asked me to update you as well."

Having heard enough doctor's speak over the years with his father to know it often went in one ear and out the other, he pulled his diner order pad and pen from his jeans and asked awkwardly, "Do you mind if I…"

"Go right ahead," Dr. Anders encouraged. "I'll start from the beginning. Rory suffered an acute asthma attack. She presented with shortness of breath and tightness in the chest, and was given oxygen on her way to the hospital. We administered a high dose of albuterol – which is something we refer to as a reliever medication – through a nebulizer. Albuterol is a bronchodilator, which means it works by relaxing the airways. In Rory's case, this medication has proved very effective and while we'll keep monitoring her, we don't believe it's necessary to prescribe her oral corticosteroids at this point, as her symptoms appear to be under control."

She paused a moment to allow him time to scribble notes, then continued on. "Ms. Gilmore informs me that Rory has no history of asthma. It could be that she has only just developed the condition, or simply that her symptoms have been mild enough in the past that they went unnoticed. What we do know is that Rory has non-allergic asthma. This means that her symptoms can be triggered by factors like exercise, cold or dry air, stress or even anxiety. Things like dust or pollen shouldn't be a concern for her, as those triggers are usually associated with allergic reactions.

"I understand that Rory was participating in a gym class when the asthma attack struck, and given the cool weather we're experiencing, it's my belief that the exercise and cold air triggered her symptoms. Rory also mentioned she's recently had a respiratory infection and has been coughing quite a bit. It's very common for asthma sufferers to present with symptoms following a cold or flu, so the asthma attack was most likely a combination of all these factors."

Luke swallowed hard, silently scolding himself for having not picked up on Rory's condition sooner.

"I didn't…how did I not realize?" he asked, his voice coming out rough and scratchy. "I didn't know. I shouldn't have let her return to school so soon. I should have…"

The doctor touched his arm lightly, offering him an understanding look. "Don't beat yourself up about it. You weren't to know this would happen, and it's not as if she had a history of asthma. The main thing is that Rory's okay."

"But why didn't I realize there was more to her head cold? I thought she was over it and just had a bit of a cough. I should have done more…" Luke rambled helplessly, drawing his baseball cap from his head and running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"You did the best you could with the information available to you," the doctor assured him. "Colds are viral so no amount of pills or antibiotics would have fixed her condition. We can't stop her from catching a cold, but knowing what we do now, we can take steps to prevent or relieve her asthma symptoms. I'll have a nurse bring you some flyers on what to look out for, and I'll arrange a prescription for an inhaler that Rory can carry with her. It's generally just a case of using it 20 minutes before exercising or anytime she experiences chest tightness or shortness of breath."

Luke nodded, grateful to have a solution. Conscious of the need to get back to Rory, he asked a few quick questions then thanked Dr. Anders for her time. He watched as she turned to walk down the corridor, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders knowing that Rory had been in safe hands in his and Lorelai's absence.

He and Rory managed to speak with Lorelai briefly, and after Mia was allowed in for a quick visit, she said her goodbyes and headed back to Stars Hollow.

Still emotional from the day's events, Rory burst into tears when she hung up from her mother and again when Mia left the hospital. Luke comforted her as best he could, but when she begged him to take her home, her blue eyes shining with fresh tears, he felt his heart wrenched from his chest.

Tucked up in the hospital bed, she reminded him of a much younger version of herself. Gone were the fleeting moments of independence she'd exhibited in recent months as teenage-hood approached. As much as he wanted to rid her of any pain, there was a part of him that reveled in that fact she still relied on him. Still needed him. It was a relief to know she was still very much the innocent child he'd grown to love over the years.

Pressing a kiss into her hair, he trailed his knuckles over her hand lightly and whispered, "Leave it with me, Squirt. I'll ask the doctors and see what I can do."

-o-

 _Stay put Lorelai, I'm begging you. I can't have both of you in the hospital tonight._

Luke's words played on repeat, and Lorelai swallowed thickly, desperate to push them from her mind after wrapping up their phone call.

She almost laughed at the absurdity of his request, her emotions bordering on hysteria.

 _Stay put? Was he_ insane _? Her daughter was in the hospital three states away._

Fueled by determination and far too many cups of caffeine, she frantically threw any possessions within a three-foot radius into her suitcase, her hands shaking as she struggled to grasp the zipper.

"Damn it!" she cursed, slamming her palms down in frustration before reattempting the task. Relief rushed through her when she felt the zipper slide into place beneath her fingertips, and she sprung to her feet hastily, not even bothering to scan the hotel room for any items she may have left behind. Luckily, she'd barely had any time to unpack before she was inundated with messages from the hospital, Luke and Mia.

When she requested transportation to the airport, the concierge gave her a look that seemed to suggest she was mentally unstable given the poor weather conditions. Lorelai paid him no mind, immune to the not-so-subtle censure of desk attendants after years working with Michel. The man stumbled over his words as he explained the courtesy bus was no longer in operation due to the snowstorm, and with her patience fast wearing, she urged him to call a taxi. He seemed to visibly recoil under her glare after attempting to dissuade her from travelling in the hazardous conditions. Eager to avoid her wrath – something that would have made an irate Emily Gilmore appear positively mild-mannered – he soon had the phone pressed to his ear.

Lorelai waved him off when he nervously pointed out that the taxi wouldn't be able to make it down the street due to the fast-growing layer of snow. Undeterred, she swung her suitcase into her arms and stalked toward the doorway resolutely, informing him she'd make her own way to the main road. She trudged through the snow, too numb to feel the cold and heedless of the harrowing wind and the white flakes falling thick and fast.

The taxi took a while to arrive and when it finally did, the driver looked like he'd been on shift for the last 48 hours, his face lined and weary. Lorelai reasoned that assumption probably wasn't far from the mark – after all, if he was desperate enough to make a dollar driving in the terrible weather, it seemed likely he wasn't one for abiding by labor laws.

Luke's words of caution sprung to mind once again as she took a deep breath and bent to enter the cab, and she forced them back into the deep recesses of her brain, her chin jutting out defiantly. She knew for a fact that if the situation had been reversed and Luke had been the one stranded in DC, there was no way in hell he'd sit tight when he could try to get to Rory.

She'd attempted to placate him over the phone, assuring him she'd ride out the storm at the hotel and make her way home to Stars Hollow only when it was safe to do so. Of course, she'd never had any intention of sitting idle, but the last thing she wanted to do was add to his list of concerns when he was already out of his mind with worry over Rory.

Her worrier; she'd never met a person that worried more than Luke.

She found it endearing, particularly the troubled frown that too often creased his forehead. She flexed her fingers, desperately wanting to trace those lines and draw comfort from the warmth of his skin.

Clearing her throat, Lorelai forced herself to think of something else – _anything else_ – because if she let her thoughts stray to Luke and Rory, there was a good chance she'd fall to pieces. And Lorelai Gilmore _never_ afforded herself the luxury of falling to pieces.

The journey was slow and arduous, and she felt her heart flutter in panic when the car slid on the deserted road, the driver at the mercy of the elements. It happened more than once, the ever-worsening conditions making it impossible to see more than a foot ahead. When they narrowly avoided plowing head-on into an oak tree, she pressed her nails into the flesh of her thighs, her muscles taut with apprehension.

The bright lights of Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport beckoned to her, and it was with a quiet whisper of thanks to that universe that she stepped from the car unhurt 30 minutes later. The taxi driver seemed to share her sentiments, breathing a sigh of relief and opting to take shelter in the airport in favor of heading out into the snowstorm once again.

Her worst suspicions were confirmed when she caught sight of the departures board, the word 'CANCELLED' emblazoned in red beside each flight. She ignored the burning hot lump that formed in her throat and allowed her shoulders to slump only marginally before pulling them back and forcing her head high.

A message over the speaker system reiterated that all flights had been grounded as a result of the snowstorm and Lorelai debated her next move, ultimately deciding to try her luck on a rental car, despite the treacherous conditions. Dragging her lurid pink suitcase toward a nearby hire desk, she joined the queue of agitated travelers, sighing when she heard the attendant recite tonelessly that for safety reasons, company policy prohibited any new hire arrangements until further notice.

Feeling defeated, Lorelai reluctantly concluded that she was stranded at the airport for the foreseeable future. If the flights and car services weren't operating, there was no chance the trains or buses would be either. It appeared the airlines also weren't accepting new bookings for the hours ahead until the weather ban was lifted.

Glancing around, she groaned inwardly when she noticed all the seats were occupied by other travelers, many of which had settled in for the night and were attempting to sleep as best they could.

Wanting to be close to the various airline desks in readiness for when flights restarted, she settled for a space on the tiled floor between two bleary-eyed vacationers, her back pressed against a floor-to-ceiling window. It was cramped and uncomfortable, and she cursed herself for having forgotten to pack her neck pillow. Not that she would sleep with her mind in overdrive, but it would have been useful just the same.

The hours that followed were fraught with worry and angst. Lorelai found it unbearable to watch a mother cuddling her child across the room, her heart aching to be with Rory. She forced herself to avert her eyes, the movement doing nothing to lessen the sting of longing in her chest.

The snow continued to fall thick and fast, and she willed it to slow, silently wondering why her beloved friend Jack Frost had chosen to betray her in her hour of need. The trashy magazine she'd packed in her carry-on luggage that morning did little to hold her attention, and she found herself staring at the cover unseeingly, entirely consumed by thoughts of Rory.

Unwilling to relinquish her space on the floor, she sweet-talked an older woman into guarding her luggage so she could purchase a coffee and stop by the pay phone to call Luke and Christopher. It was only fair Rory's father was informed of her hospital visit.

Luke barely chastised her when she revealed she'd left the safety of the hotel – a sign of his exhaustion and his understanding that a lecture was the last thing she needed in her distressed state. Instead, he assured her that Rory was resting peacefully, her breathing steady and controlled.

As much as she wanted to stay on the line just to hear the steady rumble of his voice, her coin supply was running low, so she grudgingly ended the call. His softly spoken words of comfort and support spurred her on, and Lorelai clung to them like a life raft, replaying them over and over again in her mind and soaking up every ounce of strength they offered. It was all she could do to stop herself from bursting into tears.

Sleep-deprived and pumped full of caffeine, she almost didn't believe her eyes when, well into the night, the departures board flashed up new flight times. Scrambling to her feet, she joined the throng of travelers anxious to escape the airport and willed herself to push on.

She was heading home.

-o-

Rory talked Luke into leaving the hospital, of course. All it took was one look into her pleading blue eyes and he was toast.

She longed for her bed and her books and the security of home. Most of all, she wanted her mom, but after speaking with her over the phone earlier in the evening, she was resigned to the fact that Lorelai was still hours away.

Worrisome as always, Luke was hesitant to relocate Rory from the safety of the hospital, but Dr. Anders informed him she was comfortable with her being discharged and had only opted to keep her overnight for observation given the late hour.

Luke cranked the heater in his truck and waited a few minutes for the cabin to warm up before driving around to the pick-up bay where Rory was waiting patiently alongside a nurse in the foyer. She sat in a wheelchair, looking pale and exhausted, but eager to get home. She smiled tiredly when she caught sight of him and didn't complain when he carefully lifted her from the wheelchair, preventing her from walking the few yards to the truck. With Rory bundled safely in his arms, Luke made his way toward the automatic doors, sacrificing his green army jacket to shield the 11-year-old's face from the biting wind and snow.

He settled her on the bench seat gently, fastening her seat belt and making sure to prop Colonel Clucker against her side. With a final kiss to her crown, he closed the passenger-side door, then joined her in the cabin.

They'd barely made it out of the parking lot, when Rory looked at him with imploring eyes from her position against the door and whispered, "Would you mind pulling over a second please?"

Assuring him she was feeling fine, she scooted across the worn leather, buckling into the center seat instead and resting her head against his upper arm.

"Okay," she breathed, content to feel the warmth and solidness of him pressed against her.

Luke gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze then resumed driving, making a point of traveling slowly on the snow-covered roads. Thankfully, Connecticut had not fallen prey to the same hazardous weather striking Maryland and Virginia.

Nonetheless, a troubled frown lined his forehead for the duration of the journey and when he cast yet another concerned glance in her direction, Rory finally murmured, "I'm fine Luke."

"Sorry," he chuckled nervously, forcing himself to conjure a reassuring smile. "Precious cargo. Forgive me for being a little overprotective, yeah? You gave your mom and me quite the scare today."

She smiled softly then reached out her hand to settle on his forearm. At first, he assumed it was her Rory-way of attempting to set him at ease, but as the minutes ticked by, he soon came to realize she craved the contact as much as he did. He would have given anything to simply cradle her close and never let her out of his sight again.

The hum of the engine and the surety of his presence lulled her to sleep as they neared Stars Hollow, and Luke carried her straight to her bedroom when they arrived at the Crap Shack, not bothering to change her into her pajamas as he tucked her beneath the bed covers. The need to hold her still burned inside him, but he contented himself with sitting in the rocking chair at the foot of her bed and keeping watch over her sleeping form.

If Lorelai had been home, he knew Rory would have settled between them in the main bedroom as she often did when she was feeling ill. However, his rational side reminded him that without her mother present, there was every possibility that Rory might feel uncomfortable sharing a bed with him, so he resisted the urge to carry her upstairs.

While he'd spoken to Lorelai on numerous occasions throughout the evening, close to two hours had passed since her last call from the airport pay phone and he wondered if she was still stranded there or had managed to book a new flight. He'd told her he was taking Rory home for the night and begged her to take a cab rather than driving in her exhausted state when she finally touched down in Connecticut.

He too was feeling the effects of a long, stressful day, but his protective instinct forced him to remain awake and watch the steady rise and fall of Rory's chest. He found the motion oddly comforting, as if it was ongoing proof that she was alive and breathing.

Hours passed, and desperately needing something to perk him up, Luke stumbled blearily to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. It by no means had the caffeine content of Lorelai's beloved brew, but he hoped it would be enough to fuel him for a little while longer.

His movements were sluggish, but he did his best to work quietly and in semi-darkness, not wanting to wake Rory from her slumber. She was a deep sleeper at the best of times, so it surprised him when he heard a meek, "Luke?" from across the kitchen, and turned to find her rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Hey, are you okay Squirt? What are you doing up?" he questioned, immediately rushing to her side and crouching down in front of her. In his absence, she'd slipped into the flannel she wore on movie nights, the hemline revealing sock-covered feet beneath.

"I'm fine," she assured him through a yawn, remembering to cover her mouth halfway through. "I heard noise and thought you might have been Mom."

"I'm sorry sweetheart. She's not home yet. I was just up making some tea. Sorry to wake you," he responded earnestly.

She shook her head to dismiss his apology, then leaned into him, allowing her body weight to fall lightly against his bulkier frame.

He stroked her back tenderly before asking, "Can I get you something?"

"Coffee," she murmured sleepily, her eyes fluttering closed as she breathed in the scent of cheeseburgers, pastry and hospital that clung to his flannel.

"Funny girl. Glad to see the trip to the emergency room hasn't damaged your sense of humor."

She didn't have the energy to offer more than a weak smile, and with her head buried in the crook of his neck, she murmured, "I just want to sit with you a while."

"Okay."

Pulling himself upright, Luke hauled Rory into his arms and settled her on his lap at the kitchen table. He rocked her gently in his arms, taking a sip of tea every few minutes and feeling it warm him from within.

With Rory bordering between asleep and awake, Luke didn't speak, content to simply hold her and be her source of comfort. Her slow, even breathing suggested she had fallen into slumber, but after a further 10 minutes, he heard her mumble something against his chest.

"Sorry Rory? I didn't catch that," he whispered, moving an errant strand of hair from her eyes.

"Can I sleep in the big bed with you tonight?" she asked again, and this time he was able to make out the words.

Smiling softly, he rested his head atop hers and answered, "Of course you can kiddo. Let's go get Colonel Clucker and I'll carry you up."

-o-

Lorelai took Luke's advice and hailed a cab from Bradley International, partly because she didn't trust herself to drive and chiefly because it was quicker than retrieving her Jeep from the overnight parking lot.

Her muscles burned with lethargy and she fought to keep her eyes open, sure that if she fell asleep she'd never be able to coax her limbs to move again. She hadn't slept a wink on the plane, her body kicking into a strange sort of overdrive that saw her focus solely on getting to Rory's side. Whether from sleep deprivation, anxiety or seven coffees too many, her hands had developed an irrepressible shake, forcing the cab driver to assist her in opening the door to the backseat.

More than a little concerned, he shot her a nervous glance in the rear-view mirror before starting the engine and beginning the 30-minute journey to Stars Hollow.

Lorelai's flight had touched down just after 2.30am, and having risen early to get to DC, she was now approaching 22 hours straight with no sleep. Despite her weariness, she was tempted to jump from the vehicle and run the rest of the way home as they passed through the town square. The driver seemed to sense her desperation, putting his foot on the gas and blatantly ignoring Taylor's strictly enforced speed limit as they maneuvered through the deserted streets.

She thrust a wad of cash into the front seat as they pulled into the drive, not caring that it – in conjunction with the last-minute flight – would strain her budget over the coming weeks.

Somehow finding a second wind, she flew up the porch steps, abandoning her suitcase in the foyer and sprinting toward Rory's room. Panic gripped her when she found it empty and for a terrifying moment, she wondered if her daughter had suffered another asthma attack and been rushed back to the hospital. The presence of Luke's truck rendered that unlikely, but the frantic, staccato beat of her heart would not still without confirmation. She rushed to the stairs, tripping slightly as she took them at a run, causing her foot to throb from the impact.

The strip of moonlight streaming in through the break in the curtains was enough to illuminate Rory and Luke's outlines, and she stopped in the doorway, her breath catching in her chest as she drank in the sight of them curled together. Both of them rested on their sides, Rory's forehead pressed against his t-shirt-covered chest and Luke's arms encircling her protectively. Rory's frame moved ever-so-slightly with each peaceful breath and Lorelai couldn't help but notice that her palm had sought out Luke's scruffy cheek – an action she too had performed plenty of times when needing to assure herself of his presence.

If she had her way, he'd never shave that stubble.

It took her a moment to register his blue-gray eyes staring back at her, and suddenly overcome with emotion, Lorelai felt the day's fear, apprehension and exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks. Her tightly coiled resolve unraveled in seconds, her body racked with violent sobs as hot tears streamed down her face. She stood helplessly in the doorway, her body no longer cooperating with her brain as she fell apart in a way that Lorelai Gilmore never did, and especially not in front of anyone else.

His eyes shone with a mixture of adoration and concern, and she could see him evaluating how best to extract himself from Rory's side without waking her. Recognizing it was a lost cause, he lifted the covers on Lorelai's side of the bed in invitation and she felt a fresh wave of sobs strike her at the gesture.

Before he could utter so much as one word, she found herself blurting the sole thought that shone with clarity inside her fatigued mind.

"I love you," she sobbed, her breath coming in wrenching gasps. "I love you. I love you. I love you," she repeated mindlessly, watching as his eyes widened in shock at hearing her speak the words for the first time.

"Lorelai…"

"I l-love you," she hiccupped, unable to conjure anything other than that simple sentence, and desperate to get the sentiment across. "I love you."

"Come here," he murmured, his eyes pleading with her to step closer. Abandoning her post by the door and kicking off her shoes, she practically fell into the bed, her body immediately molding to Rory's back and one hand intertwining with Luke's. She held her free hand to Rory's chest, desperate to feel the steady beat of her heart.

"I love you," she pressed, the words coming thick and fast as she made up for all the times she hadn't said them to him. "I love you both so much. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you too," he whispered, feeling his own eyes prickle with tears. It was an immense relief to have her home safe and by his side. "Ssssshhhhh, it's okay Lorelai. It's okay. You're here and Rory's safe and I've got you. I've got you sweetheart."

He inched upward on the mattress, leaning across the space above Rory's sleeping form so he could reach Lorelai. He used his thumbs to wipe the tears from her cheeks, and cupped her jaw as he whispered words of love and reassurance.

"She's okay. Rory's fine and you're here now. Everything's okay," he whispered, his forehead coming to rest against hers as he held her to him. Laced with sincerity, his words did more to convince her than her own eyes could, and she knew instinctively that he spoke the truth.

Utterly distraught, Lorelai kissed him, anxious to feel the warmth of his lips against hers as if it would prove she wasn't hallucinating. After so many hours willing herself to make it home, she could hardly believe the moment had finally come.

"You're here," she hiccupped, more tears leaking from her eyes. "You're here and Rory's okay."

"That's right, Lorelai. She's fine. There's nowhere else I'd be."

-o-

Luke awoke to two impossibly blue eyes staring him in the face, the close proximity prompting him to jump in shock and fire off an expletive.

Rory apparently found the swear word amusing, and she giggled as she offered an apology, her cheeky grin indicating she was anything but sorry.

"Geez kid. You trying to send _me_ to the emergency room this time around?" he barked gruffly, but the slight pull at the corners of his lips told her he was happy to see her. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," she whispered. Her eyes lit up as she gestured behind her and exclaimed, "Mom's home!"

"Yep, she got in around 3.30am," he responded in an equally hushed tone, not wanting to risk waking Lorelai after her stressful evening.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

He tapped her on the nose before growling, "A 98-piece marching band couldn't wake you when you're out cold, Squirt. Besides, you needed your sleep. Yesterday was a rough day."

She accepted his reasoning without protest, grinning happily at the thought of having her mother back in her presence.

"You missed her, huh?" he said, well aware he was pointing out the obvious.

Rory nodded, reaching out one hand to gently grasp the soft cotton of his t-shirt. The material felt worn and familiar, and she reveled in the sense of security it conjured within her.

"I missed her so much but I'm so glad you were there with me. Even if Mom wasn't in DC, I still would have wanted you there too. Colonel Clucker was pretty scared for a while."

"He was?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, shooting him a shy smile. "He says you give the best hugs. I think so too."

"Well that's good to know. I'll keep it in mind if I'm ever considering a career change."

She laughed under her breath, her head resting opposite his on the pillow. His face looked slightly more lined than usual after a night of minimal sleep, and she noticed the dark bags beneath his eyes.

Lying there beside him, she was reminded how much she liked being in his presence. There was never any pressure to talk with Luke, but she appreciated that he always listened with seemingly rapt attention when she struck up a conversation, no matter how trivial her chatter.

Her eyes going wide, she exclaimed, "Lane isn't going to believe me when I tell her about yesterday! I wonder if she saw the ambulance?"

"Well if not, maybe she heard the sirens," Luke suggested.

"Yeah, I bet she would have," she agreed, pondering the thought. "They were kind of hard to miss. I'll have to tell her all about the funny machine and my new inhaler and Dr. A when I see her at school today."

Shaking his head firmly, Luke declared, "Nuh-uh, no school for you. Today's a snow day."

"What?" Rory exclaimed, shooting up in bed. She tried to raise her head high enough to see through the window but her view was limited. "But it doesn't look so bad out there. Are you sure?"

"Well I guess you could say it's more of a Gilmore snow day," he conceded. At her questioning look he added, "It's a normal day for everyone else, but you and your mom are spending it in bed. My orders. You roger that?"

"A snow day!" she gasped, clearly teetering between excitement and horror at the prospect of missing her beloved school. "What will Mrs. Fletcher say?"

"You let me handle Mrs. Fletcher. I'm sure she will be more than okay with it. I already put in a call to Mia and Caesar when I woke up the first time an hour or so ago, so we're officially free agents."

"You're staying too?" Rory squeaked.

"Someone's gotta police you two and make sure you're not getting up to anything too strenuous," he grumbled, fully intending to sound stern but fast realizing he'd failed spectacularly at Rory's delighted grin.

She clapped her hands excitedly, flopping back on the mattress beside him. "A Gilmore-Danes snow day!"

He smiled wryly, propping himself up on one elbow and staring down at her.

"Which brings me to my next question…what do you want for breakfast kiddo?"

-o-

Luke was dishing up the last of the bacon when he heard the old water pipes creak to life, suggesting Rory had slipped from the bedroom to take a shower.

"Damn," he muttered, willing the food to stay warm until she was finished. Lowering the skillet into the sink, he loaded the breakfast tray with cutlery before setting off up the stairs. Lorelai was still sound asleep when he entered the bedroom, and he smiled at the sight of her unruly curls spread across her pillow.

It pained him to wake her, but he reasoned that she had the whole day to sleep. Besides, he'd never known her to turn down breakfast. Resting the tray on his side of the mattress, he carefully lifted the coffee mug from it. He held it by her face and couldn't help but smirk when her nose twitched and her eyes suddenly sprung open.

"Hey sleepyhead. Ready for your morning crack?" he teased.

"Mmmm, gimme," she urged, her hands reaching for the mug as she blinked sleepily, her mind foggy.

"You realize this is an illness right? You have an addiction," he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"All the more reason for you to hand it over," she mumbled, her eyes fluttering closed against her will. "You don't want things to get ugly when I miss my 7am hit."

"9am," he corrected, flicking his head toward the alarm clock on the bedside table.

That seemed to sober her and she shot bolt upright exclaiming, "9am! Shit! I need to get to the inn!" After a beat, the memory of the day prior struck her and, noting her daughter's absence, she asked in alarm, "Wait…where's Rory?"

"Shower," he replied calmly, watching as she breathed a sigh of relief.

"She's okay?"

"She's great. Beside herself to have you home."

She nodded then proceeded to swing her legs off the side of the bed, preparing to stand.

"Woah. Where do you think you're going?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I've got to call Mia. She'll be expecting me in later. Then the second my baby is out of the shower, I plan on squeezing her so tight she bursts."

Resting the coffee mug on the bedside table, Luke snagged Lorelai around the waist, gently lowering her back down onto the mattress.

"You're not going anywhere. I've spoken to Mia already and she knows you're not heading in for the afternoon shift."

When she eyed him questioningly, he settled his piercing gaze on her and said, "You had a big day Lorelai, and one hell of a night. You've barely slept. Do you honestly think I would let you and Rory out of my sight? Besides, Mia would frog-march you out of the inn herself if you dared to show your face there today."

She smiled up at him, relieved to know she could spend the day with her daughter glued to her hip and take the opportunity to catch up on some much-needed rest.

"Thanks Burger Boy. So do I need to call Mrs. Fletcher or has my action man already sorted that too?"

"Taken care of," he confirmed.

"You're the best. You know that?"

"I've been telling you that for years," he replied, throwing in an eye roll for good measure.

Hovering above her, he paused to survey her frame, his hand intertwining with hers.

"You okay?" he whispered, recalling her rare display of emotion upon arriving home from DC.

She nodded solemnly, biting her lower lip as her eyes met his. "I've never been so scared in my life," she admitted hoarsely.

"I know Lorelai, me too," he said, stroking her hair back soothingly. "But Rory's fine now. I picked up her new inhaler from the 24-hour pharmacy at the hospital before we left and I've got a library full of flyers downstairs. We'll keep an eye on her. She'll be okay."

Her bottom lip gave the slightest of quivers and she squeezed his hand as she whispered, "I meant it you know. What I said. It wasn't just the stress of the day."

He exhaled, only realizing as she spoke the words just how much he'd needed confirmation.

"Yeah?" he breathed.

"I…I love you Luke. In a Lloyd-Dobler-boom-box-serenade-outside-your-window kind of way."

He looked momentarily puzzled before muttering, "I haven't got the slightest idea what that means."

"You have _got_ to stop falling asleep during _Say Anything_ ," she huffed.

"I love you too," he whispered sincerely, holding her gaze and watching as one rogue tear leaked from her left eye. He kissed it away, running his fingers through her loose curls and holding her reverently.

"You have no idea how much it helped knowing she had you by her side. Thank you for being with her."

"Once the damn hospital finally let me in," he grumbled. "If Mrs. Fletcher hadn't tipped me off against the rules, I wouldn't have even known Rory was in trouble."

It was obvious the thought distressed him, and Lorelai felt sick at the realization that, if it hadn't been for Rory's teacher knowing Luke, the 11-year-old may not have had either of them at the hospital for a good while longer.

"We'll fix it," she assured him. "I can't….I can't do much about the hospital policy, but we can tell the school. We'll add you as an emergency contact. If you want, that is. I mean, you don't have to…"

"Yes," he answered immediately. "Put my name down. As soon as possible."

Lorelai smiled feebly. "Okay, first thing after I drop her off tomorrow morning. I promise."

Registering the buttons of her business shirt digging into his skin, Luke was reminded Lorelai was still wearing her clothing from the day prior, having fallen into bed as soon as she made it home.

"What do you say we get you out of these clothes?" he murmured gently, flattening his palm atop her cotton-clad stomach. "You've got to be pretty damn uncomfortable sleeping in this."

"I need a shower," she groaned, too exhausted to come at the idea.

"Food first," he instructed, and her eyes immediately lit up as she registered the scent of bacon. He reached over to grab her a rasher, and she happily began chewing on it as he proceeded to unbutton her shirt.

Her eyes flicked to the open door uncertainly, and despite the fact he was simply aiding her in switching clothes, she uttered hesitantly, "Rory."

"Will be in the bathroom for while yet," he answered, but he got up to temporarily close and lock the door just the same, mumbling something about not needing a sick _and_ traumatized 11-year-old.

He finished freeing all of the buttons then peeled the shirt from her shoulders, lifting her torso from the mattress gently to allow him to pull it free. Her bra followed, and he forced himself to focus on the task at hand rather than allowing himself to fall prey to some of her more distracting assets, which were now on full display.

A soft smile playing on her lips, she mused, "This might just be heaven you know; a sexy man serving me coffee and undressing me while I eat bacon in bed."

"Don't get used to it," he barked gruffly, his nimble fingers reaching for the zipper of her work pants. He pulled them free, noticing that she'd already lost one sock somewhere beneath the bed covers.

In the interests of self-preservation, he opted to leave her panties in place, blindly reaching for the discarded pajama top that rested atop the bedpost beside him.

"Nuh-uh. Flannel please," she requested, craving its softness against her skin. "On the hanger."

He retrieved it from the wardrobe, pulling her up into a sitting position in order to wrap it around her and thread her arms through the sleeves.

As he began fastening the buttons, she pouted, "What? You're not even gonna try stealing first base? I must be losing my touch."

He allowed his hand to slip inside the gap in the fabric, and he trailed his fingertips across the swell of one breast lightly.

"Never said I didn't want to. I'm just not a fan of starting something we can't finish," he explained gravelly, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

Giving her waist a gentle squeeze, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips and commanded, "Now, behave yourself Gilmore. Rory will be out in a few minutes and your breakfast's getting cold."

-o-

 **Raise your hand if you love Luke! *squee* Would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter :)**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

A groan escaped her the second she caught sight of the wax-sealed envelope in Rory's hands the following Tuesday, prompting Lorelai's otherwise pleasant mood to spiral downward into gloom.

The flawless script could only signal one thing, and Lorelai dreaded the prospect of attending another of her parents' stuffy soirees. Burying her head in Luke's shoulder, she threatened to lock her daughter outside the house if she dared to enter the sitting room with the invitation in tow.

Having heard her mother's weak threats one too many times before, Rory simply rolled her eyes as she plonked down on the coffee table and held the envelope out for Lorelai, who recoiled visibly.

"Don't go waving that thing near me, Chachi!" the elder Gilmore exclaimed, flapping her hands about wildly as if to force it away.

"Mom, you're gonna have to open it at some point," Rory reasoned. "Might as well get it over with."

"Says who?" Lorelai demanded. "We can pretend it got lost in the post. It wouldn't be the first time Kirk has delivered something to the wrong county. Ohh! Better yet, burn it! Best not to leave any trace when it comes to Emily Gilmore. She'll probably have some poor, unsuspecting maid raiding our trash cans for evidence."

"Give me that!" Luke scowled, taking the envelope from Rory and dumping it in Lorelai's lap. He muted the television and turned to his girlfriend, asking, "What's the big deal? It's only a damn letter."

"Oh ho, Bambi! It's all fine and dandy until the hunter shoots your mother!"

"What the hell is she talking about?" Luke asked with a frustrated groan, directing the question at Rory.

The 11-year-old raised her eyebrows, stating simply, "Grandma's sent us a party invite and Mom doesn't want to go."

"I warned you this would happen! Did I not say she was only biding her time? I knew she'd never let us off the hook after our Thanksgiving visit went by the wayside," Lorelai rambled, her eyes wide.

Rory sighed. "Well, we only see Grandma and Grandpa for Christmas and Thanksgiving. Of course they were going to cash in on their visit now they're back from visiting Gran."

"I maintain if they're the ones that aren't here for the holidays, we're not obligated to agree to a do-over," Lorelai protested petulantly, her lower lip jutting out in defiance.

Rory dropped her forehead to her palm, groaning audibly. "They were in _Europe_ Mom. It's not like they pushed it to go golfing."

"Fine, well I'm glad you're so eager to go. I'll stay home and you can fly the flag alone."

Silently pleading with Luke for help, Rory watched as he held the letter up to Lorelai once again and grumbled, "Open the damn envelope Lorelai."

Sighing dramatically, she snatched it from him, shooting him a mutinous glare in the process.

It wasn't until her eyes flicked over the neat calligraphy on the front that she grasped the full extent of the trauma that awaited them.

"Oh God no," she moaned.

"You haven't even opened it yet," Luke chastised, fast losing his patience.

"I don't need to," she responded, twisting the envelope around to reveal all three of their names printed neatly in duck-egg blue. "Welcome to the family," she rasped in her best Don Vito Corleone voice.

Luke's eyes damn near bugged out of his head.

"How the hell does she even know my name?" he asked incredulously. "I mean, first name I get, but surname? And who told her we're together?"

"Hey, don't look at me Bucko! I'm practically Chief Bromden when it comes to sharing information with my mother," she defended, throwing her hands up in the air. "Damn she's good," she half marveled, half seethed, her strangled chuckle suggesting she was bordering on hysteria. "I don't think I've seen her stage a coup this good since Nixon was in office."

"Why would she invite me?" Luke asked, perplexed.

"Because she's Hitler, and she's hell bent on making my life miserable," Lorelai moaned, covering her eyes with her hands.

Luke frowned in confusion. "I'm not following."

"She wants to judge you Luke. She wants to dissect every part of you, limb by limb, and tell me what a terrible mistake I'm making because I'm not dating Winston Blockenfeffer III."

"Who the hell is Winston Blockenfeffer III?" he sputtered.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say a hedge fund manager with a chip on his shoulder and a stick up his ass," she muttered darkly.

"Lorelai," he chastised, shooting a worried glance at Rory. The 11-year-old seemed wholly unfazed at her mother's less-than-optimal language choice.

Resigning herself to the inevitable, Lorelai slid her fingernail along the envelope, tearing the expensive paper in one final act of rebellion rather than gently popping the wax seal. The action would have surely pissed Emily off if she knew.

"Dear Lorelai, Rory and Lucas, you're cordially invited to celebrate Richard Gilmore's 30-year anniversary at Stiles Gilmore Frankston Insurance," Lorelai read aloud, skimming over the perfectly printed cursive. "Yada, yada, yada…Richard has been an integral part of the firm since its inception in 1963 and we would be delighted to have you join us in marking this special occasion."

Passing the invitation to Rory who was craning her neck to see it, Lorelai looked to Luke and explained, "It's on next week. Friday night at the country club."

"Okay, I'll have Caesar close up," he responded with a nod.

Her mouth agape in shock, Lorelai exclaimed, "I'm sorry, what? You can't be serious! We are _not_ going to this."

Looking up from the invitation, Rory countered, "We have to Mom. It's Grandpa's special night. We should be there to support him."

"Traitor!" Lorelai hissed. "Since when are you on his side?"

"I'm not on anyone's side," Rory huffed. "I just think that he's gone to the effort of inviting us, so we should at least show up."

"They won't even have the apple tarts if it's at the country club," Lorelai whined petulantly.

"Yeah well, if you play your cards right, maybe you can talk the wait staff into slipping you a few of those coffee crème brûlées they had last time."

Momentarily distracted by the prospect, Lorelai's eyes widened in awe. She was brought crashing back to reality when Luke murmured, "So that's that. What time should I pick you up?"

She did a double take, her head whipping around to face him once again. "Woah, down boy! I am _not_ dragging you along to this thing, even if I have to suffer through it. I can't even believe you're willing to go."

"Well, I'm gonna have to meet your parents sooner or later. Might as well get it over and done with," he shrugged.

Lorelai simply gawked at him. "You _have_ met them…well, my mother anyway. And need I remind you how well that panned out or do you need me to jog your memory?"

Luke winced at the recollection of his run-in with Emily at the mall all those months ago, remembering her less-than-friendly demeanor.

"I rest my case," Lorelai said smugly.

"Make the call," Luke growled determinedly.

" _What_?"

"Make the call, Lorelai," he reiterated, nodding toward the hall table where the phone sat. "Tell them we're coming."

"Are you _insane_?"

He sighed and looked to Rory for back-up.

"I can't avoid them forever, and at least this way they'll be too busy working the room to bother drilling me with questions for hours on end."

At Lorelai's dubious expression, he added, "Besides, if I'm not there, how else am I gonna defend my territory from Winston Blockenfeffer III?"

-o-

The party invitation wasn't the only letter that caused a stir in the Gilmore household that week, with Lorelai receiving confirmation she'd been accepted into Hartford Community College's fall semester. She'd been ecstatic at the news, and Luke had cooked her a special dinner to celebrate, boasting to any diner customer that would listen just how proud he was of his genius girlfriend.

It was only when he proposed mounting her letter of acceptance on the wall alongside the dancing pork chop sign that she was forced to rein him in, but his obvious pride filled her with warmth right to the tips of her toes.

Aside from that one bright spot during the week, Lorelai wondered what she'd done to attract such bad luck of late.

It could have been that she'd strategically avoided every one of her mother's 14 phone calls, or perhaps that she'd refrained from disclosing the location of Taylor's new toupee after she caught the Banyan boys attempting to wrestle it onto a stray cat outside the diner.

Either way, the unwelcome invitations kept coming, with Christopher calling her a few days later to let her know he was in Connecticut and ask her out to lunch. She politely declined, informing him he was more than welcome to take Rory out after school, but he pressed the issue, begging her to make some time in her work day.

When it became apparent he wasn't going to take no for an answer, she finally gave in and told him she could spare half an hour if he came to the inn. Sookie would be able to whip them up something and she would keep it brief, making it clear she had to get back to work.

She was going over some paperwork in her office when he appeared at the door, tapping lightly on the frame to get her attention.

"Hey Lor," he greeted, his usual happy-go-lucky smile in place.

"Chris, you made it," she responded, pulling her glasses from her face and offering him a smile in welcome.

"Damn, it's good to see you. You look great," he complimented, watching as she rose from behind the desk.

"Er, thanks. You look well too. That tech start-up still keeping you out of mischief?"

He drew her to him, not noticing that the embrace was entirely one-sided.

"Pfft, that's been over for a while," he responded, brandishing one hand dismissively. "It didn't work out but I really think I'm onto a winner this time around. I'll tell you more about the new company I'm about to start with over lunch. Care to play tour guide and show me around this place before we hit the dining room?"

"Sure," she agreed, abandoning her papers and directing him out into the hall.

They chatted easily over lunch, Sookie loading them with all manner of Italian fare for their main meals. They carefully avoided any mention of Luke, the topic having proved somewhat of a sore spot after their less-than-pleasant last encounter at Rory's eleventh birthday party. The last thing Lorelai wanted was to get into another argument.

Christopher told her about his pending move to California and they discussed Rory's recent stint at the hospital following her asthma attack. Lorelai also mentioned getting accepted into college, as well as the discussion she'd had with Rory's teacher months prior, where Mrs. Fletcher recommended enrolling the young girl in one of Hartford's more elite schools in the years to come.

Christopher let out a low whistle at that one, grinning as he said, "Man, can you imagine Rory at our old stomping ground? Brings back memories!"

Lorelai grimaced, imagining her daughter in the checked maroon uniform. "Can't say I'm thrilled at the thought of splitting her and her best friend apart, but I've started to come around to some of the prep schools," she admitted. _Thanks to Luke_ , she silently added. "It wouldn't be for a few years yet, but I've at least got to start saving now if we've got a hope of getting her in to one of them down the track. Grade A snobbery doesn't come cheap," she snorted.

"You'd be happy to send her to St. Jude's?" he asked, referring to their former high school.

Lorelai smiled wryly. "Nah, I don't think I could stomach it," she confessed. "I had a quick look at some brochures and I'm leaning toward Chilton. At the end of the day though, it will probably come down to what Rory's preference is and whichever school has a vacancy for her – that's if she wants to go at all. Rory doesn't know yet. I've been keeping it on the down-low while I get my head around it, but I'll probably mention it to her soon to see what she thinks."

"Huh. Well don't rule out St. Jude's just yet. It would be kind of cool to see another generation of Haydens passing through there," he said approvingly, and Lorelai had to bite her tongue to resist correcting him. Rory was a Hayden by blood alone, and certainly not by name.

Lorelai made sure they finished their meals in record time, and unsurprisingly, Christopher offered a half-baked excuse as to why he couldn't hang around to visit Rory after school. When she insisted she had to get back to work, he walked her back to her office, eager to prolong the encounter.

He handed her a business card with his new number in California, and she moved to grab the Rolodex on her desk to file it.

As she did so, Lorelai noticed something capture Christopher's attention from his position in the doorway, and she followed his gaze to the frame on her desk. It contained a photo of Rory and Luke at Rory's Victorian-era-inspired birthday party, the young girl twirling an old-style parasol over her shoulder and Luke crouching in front of her with a piece of chocolate cake held up in offering. The image never failed to make Lorelai smile, mainly because she felt it captured their relationship so well. Rory was beside herself with excitement, her eyes a bright blue and a radiant smile on her face, and Luke looked utterly besotted by the pint-sized brunette in front of him, offering the sugar-filled treat against his will purely to make her happy.

She could have kissed Kirk when he'd shown it to her days after the party, having taken it upon himself to act as official event photographer. She'd made several copies, including one for the photo wall in Luke's apartment, which he'd not-so-subtly relocated to prime position on his night stand.

She swallowed in readiness for Christopher's reaction, wondering how he would respond.

"So that's still…" he trailed off, his eyes probing hers for information.

"Yeah," she agreed simply.

"I gotta say, I'm surprised it's lasted this long. I thought you would have given him the flick by now."

Not wanting to fuel an argument, Lorelai merely raised her eyebrows.

"Why him?" Christopher asked sharply, and she saw the anger flare in his eyes.

"He's the best caffeine dealer on the Eastern seaboard," she quipped lightly, hoping to diffuse any potential quarrel. "His brew's practically the equivalent of China White as far as coffee goes, and you know as well as anyone how much I need my hourly hit."

The humor was lost on him, and she saw the muscle flex in his jaw as he waited for a real answer.

"He's good for us," she said softly, her words laced with sincerity.

"He's a stiff," Christopher spat, shaking his head.

"He's not a stiff. He's a good guy, Chris. You'd see that if you knew him. He treats us well. Don't you want that for Rory and I?"

He pursed his lips, one hand clenching into a fist.

"I hate that you're with him. You're settling Lorelai. I never thought I'd see the day that you'd settle for a bore like him. It was never meant to be this way."

"What? I was supposed to sit around waiting for you?" she demanded hotly, finally losing her cool.

"Well it would have been a damn step up from where you're at right now!" he growled. "He works at a _diner_ for God's sake. Can you honestly tell me he's what you want? That he makes you laugh? That he's got any God damn fire in him at all? That you're not going to get bored in no time and regret settling for him? He's a fucking dick and you know it."

Lorelai's eyes flashed with fury at his words and she wanted nothing more than to hurl the Rolodex at his overly-primped hair.

"You've got no idea what you're talking about," she seethed. "Not that I need to justify it to you, but for your information, he makes me laugh harder than anyone I know. He's steady and he's caring and he could be a God damn bell boy on minimum wage or the freakin' president and I wouldn't give a shit Chris, because he's exactly what I want. And as for fire…"

Her mind flashed to the impromptu, toe-curling sex-against-the-bathroom-door that she and Luke had fallen prey to the night before, his arm ensnaring her waist possessively and his eyes full of hunger as he sent her spiraling over the top of Mount Pleasure. Not once, but three times, thank you very much. The stark contrast to her and Christopher's dissatisfying, awkward teenage fumbling from years prior would have struck her as comical if not for the anger coursing through her veins.

She exhaled loudly. "He's got more heart and more fire on any given day than most people have in a lifetime, and I'm far from settling. If anything, he's far too good for _me_. So if you want to judge then be my guest. Just know that Rory and I are happier than we've ever been and that's entirely because of him."

Her eyes narrowing, she added furiously, "Now that we've got that straight, I suggest you see yourself out before I say something I'll regret. I've got work to do. Goodbye Christopher."

-o-

Lorelai didn't tell Luke about the lunch with Christopher, primarily because she knew it would piss him off unnecessarily and also because she considered the entire encounter to be an utter waste of time.

Chris was a spoiled brat that had once again managed to weasel his way out of visiting his daughter, so what else was new? She might as well save her breath, especially as he'd indicated he'd be flying out to California in a day or two.

By the time Richard's anniversary party rolled around a week later, Lorelai hadn't given the lunchtime visit a second thought, and all her energy was focused on finding a plausible excuse for pulling out of the party.

"Maybe we could tell them you came down with a bad case of malaria," Lorelai called to Luke hopefully, fixing one silver hoop earring in place.

"Considering it was wiped out of the states 40-odd years ago and I haven't been travelling, I'm guessing it might raise a few red flags," he grumbled, fiddling with his tie uncomfortably as he entered Lorelai's bedroom.

His breath caught in his throat when he spotted her and he licked his lips unconsciously, entirely infatuated at the sight she presented.

"Jesus, give a guy a little warning next time."

"Huh?" she asked distractedly, but his meaning became clear the moment she turned to see the unbridled desire in his eyes.

A wide smile overtook her face, and she preened self-indulgently before saying, "Like what you see, hey spunk?"

" _Love_ what I see," Luke corrected, his voice low and gravelly. He made his way over to her, abandoning his attempts to straighten his tie and letting his hands fall to her waist. She wore a midnight blue, knee-length gown, the fabric infused with some kind of silvery thread that shimmered in the light. Both hers and Rory's dresses for the evening had been hand-me-downs from Miss Patty's off-Broadway days, which Lorelai had taken some creative license in adapting to suit their own tastes and figures.

"You look incredible," he murmured, running one hand down her bare back and admiring the elegant cowl neckline that only hinted at what lay beneath.

"Thanks, you look pretty damn handsome yourself," she complimented, kissing him softly before wiping some residual lipstick from his skin.

"How the hell am I meant to take you out in public looking like this? You're gonna give me a heart attack," he groaned.

Lorelai smiled impishly, leaning in close to his ear as she whispered, "Want to know a secret?"

She held her position for a few moments, her breath tickling his ear as she finally whispered, "This dress doesn't exactly allow me to wear underwear."

She could have sworn he blew a gasket right then and there, his hands tightening their grasp on her.

"Fuck," he hissed.

"That's the plan," she assured him, a mischievous glint in her eye. "All this could be yours right now if you just agree to pull the plug on the party."

"I'd take you up against the dresser right now if I thought I could get away with it," he growled, his hand snaking inside the low back of her dress and pulling her against the growing bulge in his suit pants.

She rubbed against him teasingly, whispering, "Say the word Luke."

He took a few seconds to compose himself, his breathing labored.

"Later," he managed to grunt, using all his will power to take a step back from her. He knew as well as she did that with an 11-year-old in the house, they couldn't feasibly escape behind closed doors until much later in the evening.

Lorelai pouted in disappointment, muttering, "I thought going commando would have worked for sure."

"Oh, it's working," Luke laughed humorlessly, willing his arousal to diminish.

"Well in that case, consider it incentive to leave the party early, yeah?" she winked. "If I'm being forced to go then I might as well get some benefit out of it."

"You're going to kill me, Gilmore," he groaned.

Satisfied with his reaction, she offered him her most dazzling smile, then reached her hands toward him saying, "C'mere big guy. Let's fix that tie."

-o-

It was awkward enough that the Jeep stood out like a sore thumb beside the rows of Jaguars and Mercs lining the parking lot, but when Luke introduced himself to the valet and shook his hand, the bemused looks and critical glances from other patrons made it glaringly obvious he didn't belong in the Gilmore's social circle.

Lorelai, of course, took it all in her stride, appearing wholly unfazed at his faux pas and subtly giving him a nod to indicate a higher tip may be in order when he handed the attendant a five dollar bill. Apparently even the help was on bigger money at this end of town.

His cheeks burned with embarrassment, and Lorelai wrapped both her arms around one of his as they walked toward the front entry of the country club, assuring him with a quick kiss to his shoulder that he was doing just fine.

Knowing how nervous she was about facing her parents for the first time since storming out of their Christmas in July gathering nine months prior, he forced himself to push his mortification aside and focus on supporting his girlfriend. Moving his hand to the small of her back, he held his head high and took a steadying breath.

Emily and Richard stood by the entrance to the Spinnaker Room, welcoming guests and smiling graciously as the attendees filtered inside in groups.

Luke felt Lorelai stiffen as they approached the front of the queue, and he was grateful when Rory skipped ahead of them, drawing all eyes to her.

"Rory, how lovely to see you! You look just darling in that dress!" Emily exclaimed, taking a step back to admire her granddaughter. "Doesn't she look darling Richard?"

"Simply magnificent," he agreed heartily, prompting Rory to smile.

"Hi Grandma, hi Grandpa," she greeted, ducking her head shyly and tugging on the hem of her dress.

"Oh, Lorelai," Richard gasped upon catching sight of his daughter. "My dear, I believe you've taken my breath away. You look simply exquisite," he told her softly, his eyes raking over her curls and the elegant cut of her dress. Even Emily struggled to find fault with her garment and Lorelai found herself wishing for one brief moment that she'd thought to lift the hemline a little, if for no other reason than to infuriate her mother.

"Thanks Dad," she responded. "Congratulations on your anniversary. Hi Mom."

"Hello Lorelai," Emily greeted curtly.

Taking a deep breath, Lorelai blurted, "You remember Luke, right?"

He offered a brief hello, withdrawing his right hand from Lorelai's back briefly to shake hands with the two elder Gilmores and thank them for the invitation.

"Hello Luke," Emily responded. "Thank you for coming this evening. It's always so _nice_ when Lorelai introduces us to her significant other."

The words were said with a polite smile, and while Luke may not have noticed the warmth didn't quite reach her eyes, Lorelai took the statement for what it was: a dig at her for forever keeping her personal life firmly under wraps. She couldn't remember the last time she'd introduced her parents to one of her boyfriends. Other than the tattooed motorcycle-rider she'd dated at 14 purely to spite her mother, she wasn't sure she'd ever bothered.

Suddenly in desperate need of a drink, Lorelai gratefully accepted the glass of champagne the waiter offered and took a gulp. Eager to escape, she gestured to the handful of people behind them and stated, "Well, we don't want to hold you up. You've got plenty of other guests waiting to say hello so we'll move inside. I'm sure we'll catch up with you later."

With that, she high-tailed it through the doorway, Luke and Rory at her heels as she headed straight for the space outside the kitchen.

Pulling to a stop, she explained, "Okay, this is officially Ground Zero troops. We park ourselves here and get first dibs on the food that comes out. Rory, you know the drill. Eyes open for the coffee crème brûlées come dessert time. And if you get wind of a tiramisu, send out the bat call. Got it?"

Rory nodded dutifully.

Eyeing the roomful of upper class guests warily, Luke decided he needed a stiff drink. Or seven.

"I think I'm gonna head to the bar," he murmured, prompting Lorelai to smirk.

"Fast learner," she laughed, tipping her champagne glass in salute.

"You want anything Rory? A soda?"

The young girl shook her head, indicating she was okay for the time being.

"Okay, I'll be back shortly. Let me know if you change your mind."

The lengthy queue at the bar would have truly horrified Emily, and the lack of screeching seemed to indicate she wasn't yet aware of it. Luke joined the end of the line, gradually working his way forward over a period of 10 or so minutes. When he finally secured a beer, he turned to find Lorelai engrossed in conversation with several men in suits. Rory had somehow been roped into standing with her grandparents by the door, and he could see her smiling politely as the Gilmores proudly introduced her to their guests.

As always, Lorelai's face lit up animatedly as she talked, and Luke noticed more than one guy openly ogling her. Gritting his teeth, he strode across the room, intent on staking out his territory.

Her eyes twinkled as she saw him approaching, and she offered him that special Lorelai smile that was reserved solely for him.

"Hey sailor, I was beginning to think you'd pulled an Andy Dufresne on me and escaped through the sewer."

"Didn't pack my rock hammer," he shrugged, immediately regretting his choice of words when she raised her eyebrows suggestively. Surrounded by so many people, her pointed smirk said exactly what her mouth couldn't.

He flushed and she took that moment to introduce him to the group, her hand settling on his arm.

"Gents, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Luke Danes. Luke, this is Jason Stiles, Clive Lawson, John Appleby, Jeff Fullerton and Carl Bowman," she informed him, working her way around the group one by one. "Jason, John and Carl are all in the insurance industry like my father," she elaborated, watching as Luke said hello and shook each of their hands. "Carl was just telling us about a dilemma that's been plaguing him of late," she began leadingly, and it was only because Luke knew her so well that he could tell she found the subject highly amusing.

"Yes, it's been nothing short of a nightmare," Carl sighed. "I'm taking two months off work and my wife and I cannot come to any sort of agreement about where to go on vacation. She wants to sail our yacht around the Bahamas but quite frankly, I have no interest in dealing with the extra help that would be required to make it happen. I mean, in addition to the usual cook and bartender, we're going to need to organizer a skipper, a steward, an electrical engineer and a deckhand at the very least. It would be so much easier if we just went skiing in the Swiss Alps."

Carefully avoiding Lorelai's eyes in an attempt to withhold his incredulity, Luke grunted, "Ah…sure. Sounds like a tough gig."

"It must be very stressful for you," Lorelai agreed, patting Carl on the arm and feigning sympathy.

"Yes, quite. We had a tremendous time in Chamonix and Val d'Isère a few years back so the slopes seem to make a lot more sense."

Looking around the group, Luke noticed that he and Lorelai weren't the only ones fighting to stifle laughter; it appeared the dark-haired man with the beard – Jason, if he recalled correctly – seemed to find the situation humorous too. That would have earned him a few points of respect in Luke's book if it wasn't for the fact the man's eyes kept raking over Lorelai when her attention was directed elsewhere.

In an attempt to ward off any unwelcome advances, Luke slipped an arm around her waist, making it very clear she was off the market. That didn't stop various men from staring at her throughout the evening, and Luke felt his blood pressure rise a few notches each time he caught another one in the act. Sure, she was captivating, but she was _his_.

When Lorelai excused herself to go to the bathroom some time later, Luke took the opportunity to escape the crowd with her. After rounding the corner into a deserted hall, he looked left and right before snaking his arms around her torso and pulling her to him.

"Luke!" she giggled, his movements taking her by surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Marking my territory," he growled, walking them a few steps so her back rested against the wall.

"God, I hope you don't use the same technique as Bootsy's Doberman," she quipped, looping her arms loosely around his shoulders.

He lowered his head to her neck, pressing urgent kisses to her exposed skin.

"Seriously, not that I'm complaining, but what has gotten into you?" she breathed, angling her head to give him better access.

"You're driving me crazy," he murmured between kisses. "All of those guys are looking at you and I just want to tear their heads off."

"How about you tear my clothes off instead?" she teased, raking her fingernails down his back.

"Don't think I won't," he challenged, pulling back to stare her hard in the eye.

They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, forcing them to break apart. As the fellow party guest rounded the corner, Lorelai gave Luke an apologetic smile and whispered, "Later." She took off toward the restroom, reemerging after a short time with a fresh coat of lipstick. "You ready to get back in there?" she asked, holding out her hand to him.

"I guess so," Luke agreed grudgingly, prompting her to laugh.

"C'mon Burger Boy. We've almost paid our penance. Let's suffer through the speeches and then we can blow this popsicle stand."

As they rejoined the party and got roped into yet another conversation, it struck Luke how easily Lorelai melded into the elite social circles. As always, she could hold her own in any conversation and it amazed him how seamlessly she fit into every group they encountered. One thing was for sure; while Lorelai appeared to be well-versed in each of the topics of conversation, Luke didn't know what or who the hell a 'Swarovski' was. He eventually concluded a 'Birkin bag' must be code for something, because there was no way anyone in their right mind would spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on a damn handbag. Utterly perplexed, he opted to remain quiet, feeling decidedly out of place.

Mid-way through an impromptu lecture from the Gilmore's minister on the perils of living together before marriage, Luke caught sight of Emily fast approaching, a harried look on her face as she slipped through the crowd.

"Excuse me Reverend Boatwright. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your conversation but I'm hoping to have a word with my daughter. It's rather urgent," she intoned, pulling on Lorelai's arm without giving the man a chance to respond.

"Woah, what's your damage Heather?" Lorelai exclaimed, frowning as she stumbled over her footing. Luke caught her elbow, managing to stabilize her despite Emily's insistent tugs.

"I need you to come with me immediately. Your father's popped a button on his suit coat and I need you to fix it."

"Well maybe Chief Wiggum should have thought of that before he went on his latest donut binge," Lorelai muttered.

"Lorelai, this is not the time for jokes," Emily snapped. "This is an important night for your father and I can't very well have him making a speech with his suit gaping open. I trust a simple button isn't beyond your realms of capability."

"Mom, I know this might come as a shock to you, but I don't exactly have a needle and thread hidden in my high heels for precisely this occasion. I'm a party guest, not Agent 86."

Emily silenced her with a look before turning her gaze on Luke and stating pointedly, "Your services are not required. I'll have Lorelai return to the party as soon as she's done."

With that, she pulled Lorelai away, leaving Luke with his mouth agape and watching as Lorelai mouthed a pitiful, "Help me!"

Left to his own devices, Luke killed time securing another drink, then turned his gaze to Rory who was happily ensconced playing with two children across the room. He watched her for a few minutes, content to stand alone and observe the room.

Much to his dislike, he found himself being coerced out to the terrace by Mr-Anti-Bahamas to engage in a round of golf conversation and cigar-smoking. Baseball he was well-versed in, but golf? He was decidedly clueless on that one. Feeling sheepish and also utterly repulsed by the stench of cigar smoke surrounding him, he managed to keep up the pretense of interest for a short time, before slinking back inside at the earliest opportunity.

On reentering the room, Luke noticed Emily had rejoined the party, but Lorelai and Richard were still nowhere to be seen. Taking a moment to sip his beer in silence, Luke watched as Rory made a beeline toward him from across the room. The movement captured Emily's attention and she followed the 11-year-old, reminding her it was good manners not to run inside the venue.

Rory blushed furiously, whispering, "Sorry Grandma," as she hung her head.

Emily watched as Rory walked the final few steps to Luke, the young girl's expression brightening as she said, "Hey Luke, is it okay if I go and play in the next room for a little? Honor and Logan said they have board games in there." She gestured to the two blonde children she'd been playing with, who looked on hopefully.

He threw a cursory glance at the room she'd pointed out, seeing no harm in her spending time there. "Sure, no problem. Check back with me or your mom in about 20 minutes though, okay?"

Rory nodded agreeably, but before she could turn on her heel, Emily intercepted her, calling, "Rory, you know your father's right over there. He's not long arrived. You should be asking _him_ permission while your mother's out of the room."

Christopher's presence surprised them both, and Rory's brow furrowed in confusion. She looked between Luke and Emily awkwardly before murmuring, "Er…."

She'd never once sought Christopher's permission for anything, having always interacted with her father like she would a family friend rather than a parent or authority figure.

Resigning herself to the fact it was easier not to put up a fight, Rory shot Luke a look that subtly told him she thought her grandmother was crazy, then approached her father for the obligatory nod of approval. Christopher seemed just as surprised as she did, but he gave the go-ahead nonetheless. She scampered across the room, smiling back at Luke and giving him a wave of thanks as she rejoined her new friends.

Luke felt a sense of unease in his gut the moment he locked eyes with Christopher. The last time they'd seen each other had been at Rory's eleventh birthday party months prior, where Christopher had forgotten to get his daughter a gift and laid claim to Luke's carefully selected dictionary instead. Given he lived interstate, Luke hadn't realized he'd be among the attendees, so his presence triggered a feeling of agitation.

Luke figured his extreme dislike for the man was mutual, so it surprised him when Christopher made a point of walking over to where he stood by the window.

"Luke," Christopher acknowledged.

"Christopher," he returned, offering a simple nod of his head.

"Nice party, huh? Although no sign of the dancing midgets yet so the night is still young."

Luke grunted noncommittally, not entirely sure what he was referring to but figuring it was a dig at Emily's party planning.

"Lor about?" Christopher asked casually.

"Yeah, helping her dad," Luke replied, making an effort to be civil. "He popped a button or something."

"Right. Well, I hear congratulations are in order. We might need to crack a bottle of champagne."

When Luke eyed him questioningly, he elaborated, "To celebrate Lor getting into college. She mentioned she'd gotten her acceptance letter in the mail when I saw her last week."

While Luke felt his chest fill with pride as it tended to do whenever he thought of Lorelai's new status as a college student, he was momentarily distracted by Christopher's revelation that he'd caught up with Lorelai the previous week.

Noticing Luke stiffen, Christopher seized the opportunity to gain the upper hand, adding, "You did know we met up for lunch, right?"

Luke's heart skipped a beat and he cleared his throat before answering nonchalantly, "Sure. Lorelai mentioned it briefly."

The words were a lie and he hoped Christopher couldn't sense the way his stomach churned as he spoke.

Luke's refusal to make eye contact told Christopher he'd hit a nerve, so he pushed a little more, recognizing the opportunity to sow seeds of doubt and hopefully drive a wedge between Lorelai and the glorified waiter she deigned to call a boyfriend.

"Yeah, it was great. We indulged in a little Italian, had a glass of wine, shared a few laughs," Christopher prattled. _Had a fight_ , he added silently. Luke definitely didn't need to know that particular aspect of the catch-up.

The clenched muscle in his jaw gave Luke away once again, and he managed to get out, "That's good you had a chance to connect after Rory's hospital visit." _Seeing as you weren't there_ , he thought bitterly.

"Yeah, I'll have to spend a few minutes with Rory tonight and see how she's doing. Sounds like it was a pretty rough ordeal."

"We managed," Luke stated simply. He willed the conversation to end there, but it wasn't to be, with Christopher moving on to another topic.

"So, sounds like Lor's not the only brain in the family," he pointed out. "She mentioned Rory's teacher wants her to transfer to one of the Hartford prep schools for her senior years."

"Yeah, she's a bright kid," Luke said, his smile genuine.

"Chilton or St. Jude's though. Not exactly cheap at half the price," Christopher pointed out, raising his eyebrows. "The tuition's what? $20,000 a year? $25,000? Multiplied by however many years she's there. Not exactly the kind of money I'd imagine Lorelai has lying around."

"We'll figure it out," Luke grunted.

"Bussing tables pays well does it?" Christopher smirked, knowing he was slowly pushing button after button and enjoying every second. He'd get Luke to breaking point if it killed him.

"I'd imagine it's a touch more dignified than taking handouts from Mommy and Daddy," Luke growled, unable to hold back his anger any longer.

Abandoning any pretense of niceties, Christopher narrowed his eyes and retorted, "And yet, you and I both know a trust fund could be the difference between Rory enrolling in Hartford or slumming it at Stars Hollow High."

His words were quiet, but laced with an underlying threat and Luke quickly realized Christopher had been warming up to this moment since approaching him.

Taking a step closer, Christopher stood just inches from Luke's face and said pointedly, "Do you really want to be the reason Rory doesn't make it to Harvard?"

"I'm not gonna fight with you Christopher," Luke grit out, but he made no move to step away.

"You and I both know you and Lorelai don't have the money to fund her tuition," he pressed, his words stinging with truth. "You can flip and fry and work your ass off, but you'll never be enough for them," he warned. "How do you think Lorelai's going to feel when she looks back in 10 years' time and realizes that being with you made her sacrifice her daughter's dream? That being with you is the reason Rory will never make it to Harvard? That she could have had more if only she'd picked someone else."

"Rory _will_ make it to Harvard," Luke snarled, his pulse pounding in his ears. "I'll make damn sure that that little girl gets there if it's the last thing I do."

"Then admit it!" Christopher goaded. "You're not what's best for them. You love swooping in and playing the hero, but you're out of your depth on this one. If you truly wanted what's best for them, then you'd walk away. Because if there's one thing I know, it's that if you stay with Lorelai, you're going to destroy the one thing Rory's been working toward since the moment she could read. And nothing will make Lorelai hate you more than that."

The anger boiled in Luke's gut, and the only thing he hated more than Christopher's words were the fact they were true. It wasn't the first time he'd questioned his ability to provide for Lorelai and Rory, and the pain in his chest intensified as Christopher continued to speak his private thoughts aloud.

Finding it impossible to contain his rage, he exploded, "Well where the hell are you in all this? If your God damn pockets are so well lined then why the fuck aren't you stepping forward to support your daughter?"

Thankfully, the music and conversation around them was enough to drown out their heated exchange, so the other guests remained largely oblivious.

"I'll play my part on one condition," Christopher growled, his glare never wavering. "You stay the fuck away from my family."

"You've got to be kidding me," Luke seethed. "You're her God damn father! If you've got the means you should be making it happen no matter what."

His outburst finally attracted the attention of some nearby guests, and they shot the two men a curious glance before averting their eyes awkwardly.

Continuing to glare at Luke, Christopher's gaze never wavered as he brought the argument to an end, his voice low and cool.

"Let me be very clear. I am not forcing you to do anything. But you will do it. I know it and you know it. You don't belong in this world…and Lorelai, Lorelai does. Tell me you haven't seen it tonight with your own eyes?" he challenged. "You're never going to fit here, and while Lorelai might think you're enough for now, we both know that eventually, she's going to resent you. Hell, she didn't even trust you enough to tell you we had lunch, did she? Rory is her God damn life, and she needs someone who can help her kid be everything she wants to be, not hold her back. I can get Rory into Chilton. I can fund her way through Harvard. So if you love them like you say you do, you'll walk away."

And that, Luke realized with a pang of dread, was all there was to it.

-o-

The dinging of knives against glass rang in his ears and Luke vaguely registered Emily flitting to his and Christopher's side in a cloud of overpriced perfume and haute couture.

"Where in God's name are Lorelai and Richard?" she hissed, her eyes darting between the two men.

Luke was having a hard time forming coherent sentences, so Christopher informed her that to his knowledge, the duo hadn't rejoined the party.

"I _told_ the MC to push back the speeches and he's blatantly ignored my instruction," she ranted, her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of her husband or daughter. "Oh thank God," she sighed, catching sight of Lorelai's brown locks as the duo hurried through the doorway, Richard's coat now intact once again.

Luke watched as Lorelai's eyes landed on her mother from across the room. Her gaze then shifted to him, eliciting a smile. He saw the moment she registered Christopher's presence beside him and she flushed with shock, her face falling as her eyes darted back to Luke in panic. She clearly hadn't expected Christopher to be there.

She immediately began to wind her way through the crowd, offering mumbled apologies as she brushed past various guests on her quest to get to Luke. Finally reaching his side, she bit her lip and eyed him with a worried frown before whispering, "Can we talk?"

He simply jerked his chin toward the stage, indicating that now was not the time as Richard took to the microphone.

The minutes that followed were some of the most excruciating of his life and it took every bit of stamina for Luke to stay rooted to the spot. He longed to escape, but there was no easy way of slipping away unnoticed. As if fearing he'd make a break for the exit, Lorelai clung to his arm, her chest filled with anxiety as she wondered whether Christopher had tormented him with news of their lunch gathering. His rigid posture told her all she needed to know.

Luke thought the torture was over when Richard shared his final words, but he was then forced to endure a further two speeches and toasts from other industry colleagues. The moment the round of applause erupted, Luke barreled toward the exit, Lorelai hot on his heels.

"Luke, wait! Will you slow down a second?" she called, doing her best to run in heels as they reached the front steps. When he showed no signs of letting up, she stopped momentarily to pull off her shoes, figuring her chances of catching up were better in bare feet. "Let me explain!"

He turned angrily, his face contorted in a mixture of fury and pain as he yelled, "What is there to explain Lorelai? You had lunch with him and you didn't tell me. Seems pretty clear-cut to me. You lied and I had to find out from _him_."

Not waiting for a response, he resumed storming across the front lawn, waving at one of the parking attendants to indicate he needed a taxi.

"I didn't lie!" she cried, barely registering the sharp stones digging into her feet as she chased after him determinedly. She didn't care that they were making a scene in front of the valet; she just needed to make things okay.

"Maybe not directly, but by omission," he growled. "It's just as bad."

"There was nothing to tell!" she pleaded, breathing hard. Cardio was not her strong point.

"Could have fooled me," he muttered, coming to a stop at the taxi rank.

"I swear. I don't know what Christopher's told you but it was just two people who happen to share a kid, talking and eating lunch. It meant nothing. Less than nothing, Luke. It was one shitty lunch. You've got to believe me," she stressed.

"I can't do this right now," he breathed, running one hand through his hair in frustration.

One traitorous sob broke free from her throat and she begged weakly, "Don't go. Let's talk about this!"

"Oh, now you want to talk?" he asked incredulously. "Maybe you should have thought of that before Christopher went and opened his big mouth."

"Luke," she whimpered.

"I'm going to stay at the apartment tonight. Tell Rory I said goodnight."

And with that, he stepped into the cab and pulled away.

-o-


	26. Chapter 26

**Spoiler alert:** If you haven't read Jane Austen's _Emma_ , beware! Spoilers ahead. Then again, it's been around for more than 200 years so surely if you haven't read it by now, you never will! ;)

 **Author's note/story recap:**

Thanks for the impassioned responses to the last chapter and sorry to leave you hanging guys! I am always SO appreciative of your reviews, so thank you to everyone that took the time.

In case your memory's a little hazy here's a recap of the last chapter:

\- Lorelai, Rory and Luke were invited to Richard's business anniversary party at the country club.

\- Lorelai got accepted into Hartford Community College.

\- She begrudgingly had lunch with Christopher at the Independence Inn but felt the catch-up was so inconsequential that she didn't bother telling Luke about it. Lorelai mentioned to Chris that Rory's teacher had suggested enrolling the 11-year-old in an expensive Hartford prep school in future years to increase her chances of getting into Harvard.

\- Christopher showed up at Richard's party unexpectedly and revealed to Luke that he and Lorelai had met for lunch.

\- He played on Luke's fear of not being good enough (or wealthy enough) for the Gilmore girls, telling him to walk away from them or risk destroying Rory's dream of getting into Harvard.

\- Luke left the party and told an upset and apologetic Lorelai he'd stay at his apartment for the night.

And so our next chapter begins...

-o-

 **Chapter 26**

She'd left countless messages on his machine, including one decidedly tragic rendition of Cher's ' _If I Could Turn Back Time_.' It was all to no avail, Luke's silence speaking volumes.

Lorelai had felt a fissure snake across her heart as the cab disappeared into the night, and it was all she could do to avoid collapsing into a pathetic heap on the curb. Unable to stop the flow of tears, she'd stood helplessly as they slid down her cheeks, splattering the concrete beneath her feet.

When the parking attendant had inquired tentatively as to whether she was okay, Lorelai was promptly reminded she was not alone, and hastened to dry her eyes with the backs of her hands.

All she'd been able to answer with had been a despairing shake of her head as she'd turned on her heel and steeled herself to return to the function room for the sole purpose of retrieving her belongings and hustling Rory out to the Jeep.

Christopher had approached her the moment she'd stepped through the door, Emily hot on his heels. She'd demanded they get out of her way, pushing past them determinedly and hoping they didn't notice the tear tracks on her cheeks as she snatched up her purse and coat and scanned the crowd for any sign of her daughter.

Rory had registered the weight of the situation immediately, noting her mother's determined stride and humorless expression. Abandoning her board game without complaint, she'd slipped her hand into Lorelai's and uttered hasty goodbyes to Honor, Logan, her father and her grandparents.

Hesitant to upset her mother further but clearly confused, it wasn't until they'd been driving for over 15 minutes that Rory worked up the courage to ask what had happened, and why Luke wasn't travelling home with them. She'd immediately regretted the question, Lorelai's carefully constructed facade crumbling at the mention of Luke's name.

Now, having tucked Rory safely in bed and still not heard a peep from Luke, Lorelai resigned herself to the largely sleepless night awaiting her. Save for the occasional overnight trip to Washington DC, she couldn't remember the last time she'd spent the night alone, with Luke's overnight visits having quickly morphed from once or twice a week to the daily norm. She wondered what was going through his mind, and longed to feel the warmth of him pressed against her. In his absence, she settled for donning her pilfered flannel – the shirt the closest thing in the house to the man himself.

Tears soaked her pillow, and she wanted nothing more than to go to him. It was not to be, of course, as she couldn't leave Rory unsupervised, and she certainly didn't need her daughter witnessing an emotionally charged row at the apartment.

Across town, Luke too was battling to fall asleep, his mind racing with recollections of the evening as well as dread at the thought of what was to come. In all honesty, Lorelai's failure to mention her lunch with Christopher was the least of his worries. Sure, it pissed him off – even hurt him a little if he was completely honest – but he trusted her to be faithful to him, and if she said it meant nothing, then he'd take her at her word. If that had been the worst of it, he likely wouldn't have ventured to his apartment for the night.

What really made his heart ache irreparably was the prospect of walking away from the Gilmores. As much as he hated to admit it, Christopher was right. Despite his frugal lifestyle, Luke couldn't afford to fund Rory's private school tuition, let alone Harvard. He'd had to pay off tens of thousands of dollars in medical debts in the wake of his father's passing, not to mention close down the failing hardware store and bail Liz out of financial trouble on multiple occasions. It was only in the last year or two that his savings had begun to accumulate noticeably.

While the diner's profits had been steadily growing year on year and he was confident he could comfortably afford Rory's first year of Chilton, there were no guarantees he'd be in a financial position to put her through school in the years beyond that, especially given Harvard's extortionate price tag. He knew Lorelai would never expect that of him, but would it make her regret being with him down the track when she realized others could have made Rory's dreams a reality?

If there was one thing he knew about Lorelai Gilmore, it was that her daughter's happiness meant the world to her.

If there was one thing he knew about himself, it was that he'd do anything for Lorelai Gilmore and her daughter.

He loved them deeply, and while it would damn near tear his heart to shreds to walk away from them, it occurred to him that the ultimate sacrifice was also the ultimate act of love.

He just needed to find the strength to do it.

-o-

Sleep-deprived and in serious need of caffeine, Lorelai took a deep breath before pushing open the diner door cautiously the following morning. She was grateful to Sookie for agreeing to mind Rory at short notice, and could tell by the concern written blatantly on her friend's face that she looked as bad as she felt following her restless night.

Luke didn't look up from behind the counter at the sound of the bells, but she knew him well enough to realize he'd registered her presence when she entered. He always knew.

She made her way over to her usual spot by the register, pausing beside the stool as she uttered quietly, "Think you could spare a vat of coffee and some room for me and the giant, neon 'I'm sorry' sign flashing above my head?"

He didn't make eye contact immediately, instead finishing off whatever he was doing with a wad of receipts before turning to the coffee pot and pouring her a cup without protest. He slid it across the counter toward her, and she noted with a pang of sadness that he'd put it in a to-go cup, suggesting he was in no mood for her company.

"Can we talk?" she murmured, her voice sounding raspy and much quieter than normal.

His mouth was set in a hard line, and he continued to focus on his chore as he replied, "Not now Lorelai. I've got a diner full of people."

When he finally looked up and met her gaze, she saw his eyes widen ever-so-slightly and his expression soften. Damn, she must look like hell.

Not that it was any consolation, but she noticed he appeared just as disheveled, his eyes somewhat bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles.

"Luke…"

"I said not now Lorelai," he breathed, cutting her off. "I can't do this right this second. I need some space." _I need to work out how to tell you and hold it together,_ he added silently, feeling his gut twinge horribly.

Lorelai's gaze fell to the counter and she felt the telltale prickle of hot tears threatening to fall.

"Patty's second and third husbands said they needed space and they filed for divorce," she whispered, knowing the words sounded silly even as they fell from her lips.

"Well she tells me fourth time's the charm," he grunted, opting to wipe down the counter rather than make eye contact.

Lorelai swallowed, accepting that she wasn't going to get the conversation she sought just yet.

"Could I come by tonight?" she asked hopefully.

He sighed. "I don't think that's a good idea. I need time to think, okay?"

"But Luke...shouldn't we work through this together? Talk about it?" she pressed. "I mean, I don't know, because I've never been in one until now, but I'm pretty sure that's how functional relationships work and…"

"I think you should go, Lorelai," he said quietly. His voice was calm but firm and it silenced her immediately.

She gulped, staring at him wide-eyed before feeling the sting of hurt arrest her heart.

"Uh…okay," she managed to get out, accidentally knocking over her coffee cup in her flustered state. Her cheeks flamed red and she immediately set the to-go cup the right way up and looked around helplessly for a napkin.

"I've got it," he assured her.

"I…uh…well, I guess I'll…okay, bye," she stammered, managing to grasp hold of her hand bag on the second attempt and feeling the tears break free as she scurried toward the door.

-o-

"Lorelai?" Sookie called, entering the Crap Shack with Rory at her side a few hours later and finding it largely deserted. "Sweetie, where are you?"

When she was met with silence, the chef forced a reassuring smile for Rory's sake and murmured, "Kitten, why don't you go and set up that movie you were telling me about earlier? I'm just gonna go upstairs and check on your mom. See if she wants some lunch."

Rory nodded dutifully, but Sookie could tell she didn't buy a word of Lorelai's claims that she was coming down with something, particularly after seeing her tears the night prior. Lorelai's voice had sounded shaky and hollow when she'd called to see if Sookie would mind keeping the 11-year-old for the morning while she took some much-needed time to herself.

Climbing the stairs, Sookie shuffled her way to Lorelai's bedroom, calling her name as she went.

"Lorelai? Oh sweetie," she sighed, catching sight of her on the bed. She was draped in Luke's flannel once again and curled up in a ball on the covers, her cheeks stained with the remnants of tears and mascara. "Honey, are you okay?"

Her words merely prompted more tears, and Lorelai was powerless to stop their flow.

Taking a seat on the bed, Sookie reached out to stroke Lorelai's hair soothingly, doing her best to calm her.

"You want to tell me what happened?" she asked softly. "What did Luke say?"

"H-he…he n-needs space," she hiccupped, her eyes filled with tears. "W-won't talk t-to me."

"Oh sweetheart," she breathed, giving Lorelai's shoulder a gentle squeeze. Grappling for the right thing to say, Sookie added hopefully, "Well, it's not forever, right? You know what men are like; they just need to retreat into their cave every now and again. He's probably just processing. Maybe you could try again tonight."

Lorelai shook her head distraughtly.

"H-he…he said no. I asked and he s-said no. H-how are we s-supposed to sort this out if h-he won't talk to me?"

Sookie frowned apologetically, wishing there was something she could say or do to appease her best friend. Realizing it was a lost cause, she simply whispered, "I'm sorry sweetheart. Just hang in there. I'm sure he'll come around eventually."

Having only heard a brief summary of the drama that took place at the country club, Sookie prodded Lorelai for details, doing her best to wrap her head around the situation. They talked at length, only stopping at the sound of Rory's footsteps on the stairs.

When the 11-year-old appeared in the doorway, her forehead creased with worry, Lorelai dried her eyes and waved her forward, inviting her onto the bed for a hug. Rory cuddled into her mother, feeling a mixture of confusion and concern. Frustration soon set in when Lorelai proved either unable or unwilling to answer her many questions, and Rory balked at the idea of staying with Sookie or Mia for the night, desperate to comfort her mother.

Sookie won that particular argument, which is how Rory found herself begrudgingly packing an overnight bag an hour or so later.

Lorelai remained in bed all afternoon and evening, refusing to eat, unable to sleep, and desperately trying to pull herself together through bouts of tears. As the hours dragged on and darkness blanketed the town, she wondered what she would say to Luke if given the opportunity. She wondered if Christopher had said something to force him away, or if her mother had tried meddling once again. She wondered how long Luke would continue to hold her at arm's length and if he'd forgive her for keeping quiet about the lunch with Christopher. She wondered if it was possible for a person to fall out of love overnight. She wondered how she would possibly tell Rory that she'd failed them both if Luke decided to call it quits. Worst of all, she wondered how she could ever live without him.

Feeling her stomach churn painfully at the thought, Lorelai bolted upright in bed. She couldn't bear to spend another second in limbo. They needed to hash this out and soon, she decided, because every minute apart from him was a minute wasted. She'd go to his apartment and she'd demand they talk, because who gave him the right to call all the shots anyway?

Not bothering to change, she pulled on a pair of sneakers and took off down the stairs at a run, grabbing her car keys on her way out the door.

After pulling up outside the darkened diner, she commandeered the spare key and hastily let herself inside, skirting the tables piled with chairs and taking the stairs two at a time.

She pounded on the apartment door insistently, causing the glass pane to shake violently in its frame. When it opened to reveal a confused Luke, she noted he was sporting his sweatpants-and-t-shirt combo, signaling he had been in bed or was on his way there.

"You don't get to decide," she declared hotly, pushing past him before he could so much as open his mouth.

"Uh…?" he stammered, blinking at the hurricane that had suddenly overtaken his apartment.

"You don't get to feed me some bullshit line about needing time or space, or whatever the hell it is that's stopping us from getting to the bottom of this, Luke. I'm in this too and I'm going crazy!" she exploded, pacing the kitchen.

At the sound of the door clicking closed behind them, she turned on her heel and charged toward him, crying, "I've got my kid asking me when you're coming around next and why you're not there to read to her at bedtime, and I've got no fucking idea what to tell her. So tell me Luke, what am I supposed to say?"

He swallowed thickly, his chest twinging uncomfortably at the thought of Rory being hurt or confused by the mess surrounding them.

"I…" he began, but stopped abruptly when he found the words wouldn't come.

"Really? That's all you've got?" Lorelai demanded angrily, but her indignation quickly morphed into distress, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Rory asked me if we were fighting. She asked me if it was because of her," she cried, her voice choked with emotion as she shoved his chest with her palms.

He took a step back, managing to grasp hold of her wrists and hold them steady.

"Lorelai…"

"What the hell am I supposed to say to her?" she asked again, and this time her words were soft and pleading.

"I think you should go home, Lorelai," he murmured, her tears almost proving his undoing.

"No!" she cried, more traitorous tears falling from her eyes. "I'm not going until we talk this out."

"I can't…" he sighed, closing his eyes as if the action would give him strength. It was easier not to look at her, especially when she was wrapped up in his flannel.

"Tell me what's going on in your head," she begged. When he didn't respond, she wrestled her hands free of his hold and grasped his shirt firmly. "Tell me what you're thinking," she pressed desperately.

"I'm thinking…" he began, his voice gravelly and low. But he couldn't seem to get the words out, so he stood there silently, his eyes closed and his mouth opening and closing awkwardly.

"What Luke? What are you thinking?" she entreated. "Tell me!"

He'd wanted to find the right way to break it to her – if there even was one – but he knew that was no longer a luxury he could afford. So he simply said the words the only way he knew how.

"I'm thinking…I'm thinking it might be best if we end this," he finished quietly.

She stiffened against him, her hands tightening their hold as she registered the weight of his words.

"Luke, no," she breathed, a hot, burning ball settling somewhere in the vicinity of her throat. "You don't mean that. You can't possibly mean that," she stressed, her eyes combing his face for any further insight. "We can work through this. We'll talk about it and we'll get past it," she rambled, her voice taking on an edge of hysteria. "This is just a minor fight. It's nothing…it's…we'll yell and I'll cry and we'll have some great make-up sex and we'll move on. This is just a blip on the radar, it's…"

"No," he said simply, because he didn't trust himself to say much more. Finally he opened his eyes, and they bored into hers, reiterating the significance of his statement. "This is over Lorelai."

He tried not to focus on the pain reflected in her eyes, or the feeling of his heart being ripped to shreds as he stood there, actively destroying the one good thing in his life.

"W-what…what did they say to you?" she hiccupped, trying to understand how he could possibly have felt the need to break it off. "It was my mother, wasn't it? She said something. Or Christopher, did he threaten you? Did he lie and say something happened at the lunch? Tell me!" she pleaded, her body now racked with sobs.

"They didn't say anything," Luke murmured.

"I don't believe you. You're lying! They did something!"

Luke shook his head sadly, willing her to let it go before he caved.

"But Luke, I love you," she sobbed. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm so, so sorry that I didn't tell you about having lunch with Christopher. I had no idea he was going to be there last night, and the last thing I wanted was for you to get Shanghaied. He was supposed to be flying to California before the party, and the lunch was so insignificant I didn't think it was even worth mentioning. I'm sorry, okay? I'll never do it again. No secrets, no omission of facts. You'll know every boring detail of my life. You have to believe me. You have to give me another chance."

Ever so gently, he pried her hands from his shirt, lowering them to her side.

"I think you should go, Lorelai," he said, his voice soft but firm. _Go before I crumble_ , he begged silently.

"I won't," she said defiantly, shaking her head. "I won't let it end like this. This is too important to throw away and I won't do it. I love you Luke and you love me. Tell me I'm wrong," she challenged, her chin lifting.

He knew her intimately enough to recognize that beneath her layers of faux confidence, she genuinely believed herself to be unlovable to anyone but Rory. Or had done, until him. He'd sworn he would never take advantage of that chink in her protective armor, but he now feared it was the only ammunition he had to do what he needed to do. It was the one thing she'd believe without question. He had to hurt her to set her free.

When her pleas were met with silence, Lorelai reached out one tentative hand to cup his stubble-roughened cheek, her voice cracking with emotion. "Say the words and I'll go Luke. Tell me you don't love me."

Then, though it surely ripped his heart clean from his chest, Luke drew on every ounce of strength he possessed and forced the words from his lips.

"I don't love you, Lorelai. This is over."

-o-

She didn't get out of bed for five days, save for bathroom breaks.

Beyond that point, Lorelai only forced herself to venture downstairs for Rory's sake.

The 11-year-old had finally put her foot down, informing Sookie and Mia – in a manner she hoped came across as stern but in reality, was nothing short of polite – that she wasn't a baby, thank you very much, and she was well aware her mom's lethargy had less to do with being sick and more to do with the blatant absence of a certain diner owner.

The last thing she wanted was round-the-clock babysitters blocking her path upstairs while her mother was falling apart. Rory wanted to help, and since she wasn't sure how, she wanted to be present, because at least that way she was doing _something_. It was better than spending her time worrying or wondering about Luke. She missed him, more than words could say.

Despite her best intentions, the movie night she planned a few days later in hopes of cheering her mother up did not go well. Rory had given careful thought to their viewing catalog for the evening, but it didn't take long to figure out that no amount of upbeat Judy Garland films would be enough to bring Lorelai's smile back.

She silently chastised herself for being thoughtless enough to wear her movie night flannel. The action had become so habitual that it didn't even cross her mind that the familiar plaid might be enough to shatter her mother's fragile resolve. Lorelai's face had crumpled the second she'd caught sight of the offending garment, and she'd begged Rory to change clothes, sounding small and breakable and nothing like herself.

That in itself had reduced Rory to tears, her worry for her normally unshakable mother consuming her and mingling with confusion and sadness surrounding the break-up. It was final, Lorelai had told her, and there was nothing either of them could do to change that. Luke simply didn't love her anymore.

That sentiment didn't add up for Rory, because Luke loving Lorelai was a fact, not something up for debate. He ran a diner, he wore flannel, he ate health food, he yelled at Kirk and Taylor and he loved Lorelai Gilmore. Simple.

Nonetheless, Rory cried for her mom, for Luke, for herself and for the family they should have been. She tried to make sense of what had gone wrong, gleaning only the censored, Cliff Notes version from Lorelai, Sookie and Mia and wondering why on Earth everybody kept reiterating she'd understand more when she was 'older'. She was fairly certain she could be 73 and still think the break-up was a monumental mistake.

She hadn't been given the opportunity to say goodbye to Luke, and as her mother couldn't even bear to hear his name – never mind be in his presence – Rory read her bedtime stories alone each night, pondering what he could be doing and whether the ache in his chest was as relentless as her own.

She absently wondered whether he'd have a blue-eyed, brown-haired daughter of his own one day, and if he'd love her enough to stay.

-o-

For Luke, lifting weights helped to numb the pain.

It wasn't that the exercise took his mind off Lorelai and Rory, but rather that it left him so fatigued that he fell into bed utterly exhausted each night. Without it, he would toss and turn for hours on end, his heart aching to be with the girls and his head reminding him time and time again why it had to be this way.

He worked his body from dawn until dusk and beyond, slaving away in the diner by day and pressing hundreds of pounds each night. It was either that or turn to KC's, but aside from the fact he'd never been a big fan of drinking himself under the table, he hated the prying eyes that cataloged his every move.

The townsfolk had made their thoughts on the break-up crystal clear, and though he was certain Lorelai would never have given details to anyone but her inner circle, word had nonetheless gotten around that he'd been the one to call their relationship off.

Damn Babette and Patty's God damn phone tree.

Gypsy had made a point of boycotting the diner in a show of female solidarity and Taylor had taken it upon himself to inform Luke that he was holding him personally responsible for the collapse of the Stars Hollow Bridge. Luke couldn't even begin to fathom how he was guilty of _that_ particular offense, especially as it had happened more than six years prior, but he accepted it with only a weak tirade of abuse, his threats hollow and his obligatory rant lacking conviction.

Kirk was the only Stars Hollow resident who seemed genuinely confused by the whole state of affairs, resolving to eat a pack-lunch supplied by his mother each day rather than risk offending either Luke or Lorelai by stepping foot in the diner or the Independence Inn. Mia eventually took pity on him and set his mind – and his anxiety-induced hives – at ease, assuring Kirk that Lorelai was perfectly comfortable with him tackling a tuna melt across town.

The only thing that kept Luke sane throughout the ordeal was the knowledge that his actions would be best for the Gilmores in the long run. After some initial hurt and disappointment, Lorelai would move on, and she'd eventually find someone that possessed the means to care for her in the manner she and Rory deserved.

The thought of her with anyone else made him sick to his stomach, but if it meant Lorelai would be happy and Rory would make it to Harvard, he'd endure the pain of not being by their sides.

As for him, Luke knew he'd never move on. Lorelai was the love of his life, pure and simple. No one else had the ability to get under his skin quite like she did, whether turning him on, making him laugh or needling him until steam came out his ears. Somehow, she'd woven her way into the deepest parts of him.

He'd love her until his dying day, he knew. So he kept the tattered horoscope in his wallet and the picture of Rory on his nightstand.

Because if he couldn't be with them, at least he could remember.

-o-

The shock had set in first for Lorelai. Then anguish and disbelief.

The denial was so free-flowing toward the end of spring it was practically a river in Egypt, and she couldn't count the number of times she awoke expecting to feel Luke's arms around her.

It was when the guilt began to surface just a few weeks later that the pain worsened – something she hadn't thought physically possible – slicing her insides bit by agonizing bit. Hour after hour, day after day, she ran through countless scenarios envisioning how she could have changed the course of fate with just one simple decision.

 _She should never have pushed Luke to talk before he was ready._

 _She should never have attended the party at the country club._

 _She should have told Luke about the catch-up with Christopher._

 _She should have declined going to lunch with Christopher in the first place._

 _She should never have even become friends with Christopher all those years ago._

No, she wouldn't change that last one, because it had given her Rory.

She never made it to the anger stage, Kübler-Ross theories be damned.

Sookie assured her it would get easier with time, but Lorelai knew the words were hollow and ineffectual. She would never truly recover. How could she when her heart no longer belonged to her?

Luke didn't love her, and that was that.

One thing was for sure: she didn't wallow.

Wallowing was for hurt feelings and bruised egos and broken hearts, but this was more than that. The pain was so acute Lorelai felt a part of her had been ripped from her body.

All she knew was she was bleeding out, and there wasn't enough Ben & Jerry's in the entire state of Connecticut to cauterize the gaping hole inside her.

That summer was the first time Rory was introduced to the ex-box, or more specifically, the Luke Box.

In a fit of grief, Lorelai tore around the house, stuffing spatulas and toiletries and clothing items into cardboard boxes – four to be exact, because practically living at the Crap Shack meant Luke had a lot of belongings stowed around the place.

When she ran out of boxes to fill, Lorelai commandeered the washing basket, desperate to purge her surroundings of any trace of him. It hurt to be confronted with remnants of her scruffy diner man at every turn, and while she could hide away most of the physical reminders, she still saw Luke in every room – cooking dinner, shaving his three-day growth over the bathroom sink, watching ESPN or quietly reading to Rory at bedtime.

Rory didn't complain when Lorelai declared the easy chair Luke favored expendable and dumped it on the lawn, bribing the pizza delivery boy with a crisp $20 bill to make it disappear. She didn't protest when her mother cleared out the entire cutlery drawer, leaving them with just three measly forks in the sink that managed to escape her line of sight.

It was only when the 11-year-old found Lorelai attempting to wrestle her beloved books into a charity bag and eyeing her hand-carved bookshelves as if she was contemplating how best to pry them from the bedroom wall that Rory was forced to take action. Packing up half the house was one thing, but her books were off limits.

"Mom," she said tentatively, eyeing a frenetic Lorelai from beneath her long lashes. When the elder Gilmore continued to unceremoniously dump book after book into the flimsy bag, Rory set off toward her, resting her hand against her shoulder gently. At Lorelai's pause, Rory reached down to pull the topmost book from the bag and, holding her mother's gaze, whispered, "We all know Bill Sykes wasn't the most stand-up guy, but what did Dickens ever do to you?"

Lorelai appeared to take her in for a few long moments, before she finally felt her lower lip quiver and she dissolved into irrepressible sobs.

In a well-practiced move, Rory simply wrapped her arms around her mother's trembling frame and held on for dear life.

Because they were the Gilmore girls, and they held each other up.

-o-

After accepting a kiss goodnight and hearing the click of her bedroom door closing, Rory laid stock still in bed, straining her ears for the sound of her mother's disappearing footsteps. When it was apparent Lorelai had retired to the couch, the 11-year-old quietly slipped from beneath the covers, tip-toeing across the room to where her pink school backpack rested.

She quickly removed the various books and stationery items, leaving her water bottle tucked inside. With a cursory click, she determined her flashlight was in working order, before wedging it into the side pocket alongside a tattered copy of _The Catcher in the Rye_.

It didn't take her long to change out of her pajamas, and after slipping on a light cardigan, she stuffed a throw she'd commandeered from the linen closet into the bag, just to be sure. She bit her lip in indecision as she weighed up whether there would be room for Colonel Clucker, reluctantly deciding it would be too tight of a fit. She gulped at the thought, feeling just a little anxious at the prospect of walking alone in the dark.

Steeling herself for the journey ahead, Rory took one last look at her alarm clock, then inched the window open as noiselessly as possible. The diner would be trading for at least another hour yet, and with the walk only likely to take around 15 minutes – 10 if fear prompted her to run most of the way – she assured herself she'd make good time.

She tried not to look at the trees that lined the roadside, their swaying branches making her jump on more than one occasion. Instead, she focused on keeping her eyes forward as she clung tightly to the straps of her backpack. Shadows loomed ominously at every turn, and she forced herself to press on, grateful when the brightly lit town square came within sight. Tucking her head to her chest, Rory ran the rest of the way to the gazebo, panting heavily as she mounted the steps. She winced at the realization she'd forgotten to pack her inhaler, but breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't feel any tightening in her chest. Even though the June nights had proved far from humid so far, the summer air was much kinder on her chest than the icy chill of winter.

After catching her breath, she turned her gaze to the diner, squinting to see how busy it was. She was relieved to see Luke behind the counter. A handful of customers were scattered around the tables, and it appeared she would have to wait a while to catch him alone.

She had to duck when Andrew waved a friendly goodbye to Luke and exited out the front door. The last thing she wanted was for the townsfolk to see her, as they'd surely wonder what she was doing wandering the streets alone at night and either take her home or call her mother.

Resigning herself to the fact she'd need to relocate somewhere a little more inconspicuous, Rory looked left and right before darting across the street to the alley beside the diner. She was grateful for the soft glow the safety light cast over the lane way, alleviating her fear of waiting in complete darkness.

At first, Rory settled on the step by the diner's back door, but when Luke's truck blocked her view of the square, she knew it wouldn't suffice. She needed to be able to see the diner customers driving away so she'd have some idea of when Luke was finally unaccompanied. Inspecting his truck, she determined the back tray would provide the best viewing angle, while largely shielding her from the eyes of anyone roaming the town square.

Rather ungracefully, she scaled one of the back tires and scrambled into the tray, landing on her bottom with a thud. Thankfully, there was no one around to notice the noise, so she took the opportunity to begin setting up her makeshift camp. Pulling the throw from her bag, she draped it over her legs then snagged her copy of _The Catcher in the Rye._ The metal bed of Luke's truck wasn't particularly comfortable, so she propped her backpack up behind her and leaned against it, the diner's outdoor light allowing her to focus on the pages of her book.

At 9.35pm, Rory spied a cohort of out-of-towners departing the diner, suggesting only a few customers remained.

As 9.45pm rolled around, Rory's eyes felt heavy with sleep, and she didn't notice the last diner stragglers disappearing down the street.

By 9.50pm, she'd succumbed to slumber, unaware of Luke flipping the lock on the front door and emptying the remaining dregs of coffee down the sink. Because, of course, Lorelai wasn't there to take them off his hands.

-o-

As the credits ran on _An Officer and a Gentleman_ , Lorelai prepared to retire to bed. It was lucky she'd seen the movie countless time before, because ever since the break-up with Luke, she'd had little appetite for movies or popcorn. Or anything, really.

She'd mostly just stared at the screen blankly, consumed with thoughts of how – despite her best intentions – she'd managed to screw up so badly once again. _Old habits die hard, Gilmore_.

Flipping off the lights, she paused at the foot of the stairs before deciding to check in on Rory one last time. Her daughter was the only thing that brought her joy of late, and she found it comforting to watch over her sleeping form – a reminder that no matter how dark her days felt, she always had something to live for.

Padding down the darkened hallway, Lorelai edged Rory's bedroom door open, her eyes still adjusting to the lack of light. She focused on the bed covers, scanning them for the familiar curve that marked her daughter's outline.

When she didn't immediately locate Rory's frame, Lorelai blinked repeatedly, willing her eyes to focus. A second search proved no more fruitful.

Feeling the panic flare in her gut, she flipped on the light, scanning the bedroom desperately for any sign of her daughter. She pulled the bed covers back frantically, her heart plunging into her stomach when her worst suspicions were confirmed.

"Rory!" she called urgently, running out into the kitchen. "Rory, where are you?"

The resulting silence terrified her and her yells soon morphed into angst-filled screeches as she begged for her daughter to answer her.

"Rory! Where are you? Are you okay? RORY!"

Lorelai flew up the stairs at speed, knowing in her heart that she'd find the bathroom empty. She would have seen her daughter journeying up the stairs if she'd awoken to nature calling. She checked every room as well as the front lawn, her fear increasing with every second.

She was half-way through dialing Luke's number when she remembered this was not his problem and she could no longer expect him to come to her rescue. But in the absence of her Mr Fix-It, who _would_ she call?

She decided on the police. With her daughter missing at 11 O'clock at night, there really was no other logical option.

She picked up the receiver, and forcing her shaking fingers to function, she dialed 911.

-o-

Between Officer Weston and Taylor, the town was mobilized in under 20 minutes.

Babette and Miss Patty were put in charge of the phone tree, and while they ordinarily wouldn't have been caught dead fraternizing with Eastside Tilly, they begrudgingly joined forces with their arch nemesis in the interests of finding Rory quickly. After all, the gossip-monger's contacts on the eastern side of town were unparalleled.

Taylor of course, assigned himself the role of Commander-In-Chief – a title that was largely ignored by the townsfolk as he roamed the town pompously and issued directives over a megaphone.

An unlikely leader came in the form of Mrs. Kim, who left Lane in the capable hands of her father while the stern Korean woman joined the throng of search volunteers and barked orders like a strict drill sergeant. With Luke's help, she systematically divided the town into clearly defined search areas, directing Andrew to the library, Al to the various bus stops, and Gypsy and Lulu to the high school. Bootsy was tasked with braving the hostile Armbrusters down by the lake as he scoured the bank and surrounding forest.

As always, Kirk proved more of a hindrance than a help. Eager to assist, he happily took on an urgent assignment from Luke to locate a red safety whistle in the store room of Miss Patty's dance studio, vowing not to return until he found it.

Miss Patty seemed awfully confused as she watched him prance across the town square, and she eyed Luke questioningly as she murmured, "I don't recall seeing anything of the sort out the back, Luke. In fact, I don't think I've ever used a red whistle as a prop in any of my performances."

He shot her a sideways glance as he grunted, "That's what I'm banking on."

He was glad to be free of Kirk and able to focus on the task at hand, a sentiment Patty seemed to share as she shot him a nod of approval and called loudly, "Kirk honey, I think they're in a box right up the back. When you find the stack of honey badger costumes you'll know you're getting close."

She turned her attention back to the papers in front of her, raising an eyebrow when Mia tutted, "Patricia, I am yet to see a honey badger in any of your performances yet."

If the situation hadn't been so dire, the women probably would have shared a conspiratorial smile. Instead, Mia turned to pore over the map in Luke's hands, her face etched with concern.

"I'm going to head to the elementary school," Luke remarked, his forehead creased with a frown. "No one's looked there yet and I know the grounds."

"I'll come with you," Mia replied determinedly, leaving no room for argument. He simply nodded, his jaw clenching with fear and worry for Rory.

Luke felt like a jittery mess, but he drew strength from being able to contribute to the search effort. He knew Lorelai must be out of her mind with worry as she waited by the phone, and he was glad to hear that she at least had Sookie by her side. She was never one to sit idly by if she could help it.

Officer Cooper Weston – or Coop as Luke referred to him – had insisted Lorelai remain at home in case Rory returned. Mia had told Luke so when she'd appeared on his doorstep earlier in the evening. The other townies had been reluctant to inform him of Rory's absence given his and Lorelai's estrangement, but kind-hearted, steadfast, dependable Mia had refused to leave him in the dark, making sure to rouse him as the town began to rally. Luke was grateful for that, so he raised his lips in a way that he hoped resembled an appreciative smile then led the charge to the school.

They combed the outdoor corridors and playground for the better part of 25 minutes, shining a flashlight across the grounds and calling Rory's name repeatedly. The building itself was locked for the night, but they made sure to check behind the storage shed as well as the stairs at the entry.

When there was still no sign of her, they returned to the town square, searching every inch of concrete and shrubbery. They split apart as they did so, Mia taking one end of the square and Luke covering the side closest to the diner, his hopes of finding Rory in the gazebo soon dashed.

Desperate to cover more ground, Luke determined they might have more luck if they combed the town by vehicle. He called out to Mia across the square, who agreed readily and did her best to scurry after Luke as he barreled at full speed toward the back alley where his truck was parked.

So intent on his mission, he would have propelled himself into the driver's seat without a second thought had it not been for the trace of pink that caught his eye. His heart thudding in his chest, Luke rushed over to the tray and felt a flood of both relief and fear when he caught sight of a motionless Rory curled up on the cool metal, her head resting on her pink school backpack and her eyes closed.

"Rory!" he blurted, immediately reaching for her. "Rory, are you okay? Can you hear me? Rory!" he called again, shaking her arm insistently.

The young girl's eyes blinked open slowly and a smile lit up her face the moment she registered his presence.

"Luke!" she beamed.

"Are you okay?" he asked again hurriedly. He drew her frame to him, his hands falling to her forehead, her pulse, her cheek as he searched frantically for any sign of injury or ailment. "I need you to answer me!" he stressed, desperate for confirmation that she was unhurt.

"I'm fine, Luke," she said, a little confused by the urgency in his tone. She smiled when he pulled her to his chest and held her to him in a fierce hug. "I came to see you."

"You're okay," he said faintly, as if trying to convince himself. "Mia!" he yelled loudly, still not relinquishing his hold on the 11-year-old. "Mia, I've got her!"

The older woman appeared at the edge of the alley a moment later, her cheeks flushed from running after him. "Rory!" she exclaimed, finding a second wind and dashing to the truck to hug her. "Oh sweetheart! You're here. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Rory reiterated, baffled by the level of panic etched into their faces.

"What were you _thinking_?" Luke demanded, but there was a hint of softness in his tone. "We've been so worried. Half the town has been out looking for you."

"They have?" Rory clarified, her eyes almost bugging out of her head and a tinge of pink coloring her cheeks as she absorbed his words.

"Didn't you hear us calling your name?"

"I-I fell asleep," she confessed sheepishly, ducking her head in embarrassment. "There were still lots of people in the diner when I arrived to see you so I thought I'd wait out here until they left to come and talk to you."

"Ah geez," he sighed, ditching his baseball cap for a moment to run his hands through his hair. "Your mom found your bed empty, kid. She's got to be worried sick. We've got to let her know you're okay. Mia, we should call or…or is Taylor still out there with that damn megaphone? We need to get a message to Lorelai," he rambled, knowing she would be panicked beyond belief. "Rory, I'm taking you home right now."

"No!" Rory cried, her eyes suddenly as wide as saucers. "I can't go home yet! I need to talk to you first. I haven't seen you in forever and Mom won't let me come back here after this. I'm not going anywhere!" she declared, folding her arms stubbornly as she prepared to hold her ground.

The scene would have almost been comical to him if it weren't for the entire town being fraught with concern. He half expected her to tack on a polite, "please" at the end of her statement, knowing her typically mild temperament and how diligent Rory was with her manners. The 11-year-old's eyes flashed with determination, and it occurred to Luke that she had never resembled her mother more than in this very moment. Unlike Lorelai, she lacked that innate fearlessness, and she immediately began chewing on her lip nervously, a pint-sized package of sweetness and innocence.

Her blue orbs darting between the two adults, Rory reasoned, "I'll go home, just not yet. Please don't make me leave without seeing you, Luke. I miss you."

"Ah geez," he breathed, putty in her hands as usual. "Rory, I don't think your mom's gonna be okay with…" he began, unsure of how to get his point across.

"I'll call Lorelai," Mia said quietly, resting her hand on Luke's arm reassuringly. "You two talk and I'll let her know. I'll tell her Rory needs a few minutes. She'll be desperate to charge over here, but she'll listen to me. I know she will."

Luke swallowed and nodded appreciatively, offering Mia a weak smile as he handed over his key to the diner so she could make the call. As soon as the woman rounded the corner, he turned his gaze to Rory and unfastened the tailgate so he could hoist himself up onto the truck bed beside her. She mirrored his position, allowing her legs to dangle over the edge of the tray.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Rory immediately cut him off, her subject choice suggesting she wasn't quite ready to address more serious topics just yet.

"I finished reading _Emma_ ," she began tentatively, her eyes darting up to meet his.

Luke immediately felt his chest tighten, hating that he hadn't been there to continue with their bedtime reading.

"Yeah? She didn't end up with that putz Mr. Elton did she?" he asked gravelly.

"No, remember Mr. Elton ran off to Bath and married that horrible Augusta Hawkins? The one who always rambled on about how wealthy she was?"

"How could I forget?" he grimaced. Recognizing she needed him to play along, he added, "So that Churchill guy?"

"Frank? He was secretly engaged to Jane Fairfax."

"He _what_?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, her face scrunching up in distaste. "Everything came out in the open when his aunt died."

Luke sighed softly, forcing himself to keep up a stoic facade for Rory's sake. While he didn't give a rat's ass about Jane Austen's imaginary world, he cared deeply for Rory and figured she was craving the normality of one of their everyday exchanges. The kind they would have had before the break up. He had to admit it was unbelievably comforting to hear her voice and have her in his presence again.

"So what happened to Emma?" Luke asked, indulging her.

"She married Mr. Knightley, of course," Rory shrugged.

Luke raised his eyebrows. "Huh. But she always used to flirt with Frank. And tease Mr. Knightley about walking everywhere, and get annoyed when he called her out for being a brat."

"She liked to bait him, sure, but she always knew he was a good guy," Rory explained. "That's why they're so good together. He keeps her in line and she keeps him on his toes."

"Kinda creepy that he's almost 20 years older than her," Luke groused, and Rory couldn't help laughing and rolling her eyes despite the somewhat somber circumstances. Nudging her with his shoulder, he added, "So what else is new with you? Almost summer vacation, huh? Have you and Lane still been acing it as lab partners these last few months?"

She nodded. "Yeah, everything's good at school. I got an A-plus on my final spelling test today."

"No kidding; way to go Squirt," he praised.

"Well, I kind of got 'courier' and 'career' mixed up but Mrs. Fletcher said she didn't give us the word in a sentence, so it made sense that some of us weren't sure which one she was saying."

"Seems fair," Luke agreed.

"Luke?" Rory added softly.

"Yeah?"

"I miss you." The words cut him like a knife and he wanted nothing more than to hold her to him and never let go.

"Oh kid, you've got no idea," he sighed, stretching one arm around her shoulders and pulling her petite frame against his side.

"Mom misses you too. I know she does. Sometimes I hear her crying in her bedroom or in the shower when she thinks I'm downstairs. You've got to come back, Luke. I don't know what your fight was about but we need you back with us. This break up has gone on for too long."

Hot tears pricked at his eyes and he buried his face in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent.

"I wish it was that easy, Squirt," he ground out, his throat constricting with every word.

"It _is_ that easy!" Rory declared, her chin lifting defiantly.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to find the strength to continue. "Rory, I don't expect you to understand this until you're much older, but sometimes…sometimes, no matter how much you want something, it doesn't always work out the way you plan. Sometimes the hardest choice is what's best for everyone in the long-run. Your mom and I, we…well, we weren't meant to be," he sighed.

"I don't believe you!" Rory bit back. "We're a family. We're meant to be together. You said you loved me. You said you thought of me like your daughter. Don't you remember, Luke?" Her tone had taken on a sense of pleading and urgency and he hated being the cause of her distress.

"I remember Rory," he said quietly, and he gave her arm a comforting squeeze. "It's true. I _do_ love you like you're my kid, and that won't ever change. But I hurt your Mom pretty badly kiddo, and right now, no matter how much I want you in my life, she thinks it's best if we don't see each other. I don't have much say in that, and I don't deserve to after what I did to her. None of this is her fault; she's just trying to protect you both. I'm so sorry that I've hurt you; that's the last thing I wanted to do. But if there's one thing I know, it's that you inherited your mom's resilience, and if anybody can be brave right now, it's you. So I need you to keep your chin up okay? Because it sounds like your mom needs some support and I don't know anyone better suited to the job. That's what you've always done, right? You've looked out for your mom even though she's Superwoman."

" _We've_ always done that. Me _and_ you," she stressed. "I'm not tall enough to reach the porch light now it's blown. And who's going to change the bottle in the water cooler? Or fix the front step when it comes loose?"

He left his eyes downcast, knowing he'd be powerless against her imploring blue orbs. Swallowing thickly, he focused on keeping his voice from wavering.

"You can let me know. If you get into any trouble or the porch rail comes loose again…whatever happens, I will always look out for you and your mom. You just tell Mia, okay? You let her know and I'll make sure it's taken care of. But whatever you do, I need you to promise me that you'll never sneak out again, alright? It's not safe for you to be wandering around alone, especially at night."

"It's Stars Hollow Luke; not _Murder, She Wrote_ ," Rory huffed, sounding every bit the carbon copy of her mother.

"Yeah well, regardless, you risk running into Kirk practicing his unicycle skills, and I can vouch his lycra outfit is nothing short of terrifying, no matter what time of day." He offered a small smile at that, hoping to lighten the mood despite the fierce ache in his stomach. "Promise?" he pressed, holding out his pinky in the way she always did to him.

"Alright," Rory conceded, begrudgingly shaking on it.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and it wasn't until he heard the quietest of sniffles from her that Luke realized Rory had begun to weep.

"Hey, what's this?" he asked gently, rubbing her back in gentle circles. She sniffed again, overwhelmed with sadness.

"I hate that I don't get to see you anymore. I hate that you and Mom aren't together. I hate that you're not there to tuck me into bed at night or test me on my spelling words or try to make me wear 300 layers of clothing because you worry I'm not warm enough."

" _Are_ you warm enough?" he blurted before he could stop himself.

The words just made her cry harder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered sincerely, feeling himself choke up. "I hate it too."

She buried her head against his chest, the fabric of his t-shirt soaking up her tears as they clung to one another.

Desperate to console her, Luke racked his brain for anything he could say to ease her misery. He stroked her hair and squeezed her tight, willing something to come to him. Finally, he cleared his throat and said softly, "I think I've got an idea."

Her tear-filled gaze meeting his, Luke explained, "Ever since your mom and I got together, reading before bedtime has been our thing, right? Yours and mine. No matter what happens during the day, that's always been our special time together."

Rory nodded, unsure of the direction the conversation was headed.

"So nothing changes. That time is still our time. Every night you open your book, imagine I'm right there with you, reading you the words. And I'll read too, every night, even if we can't be together. As long as you have a book, you'll know I'm always thinking of you, okay? You'll know I love you no matter what."

Rory teared up once again at his words, but nodded nonetheless, her lower lip quivering.

"There's my brave girl," he whispered lovingly, tucking one wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "Now I think it's about time we get you back home safe. What do you say? Your Mom's going to be beside herself with worry."

-o-

Lorelai was nothing short of frantic when Luke and Rory appeared in the front drive. The 11-year-old had insisted they walk to the Crap Shack rather than take Luke's truck, buying her precious time with the man she missed so much.

He'd held her hand for the duration of the trip, shouldering her backpack like he'd done whenever he'd collected her from school. Unlike her solo journey earlier in the evening, Rory hadn't felt the slightest bit frightened. The shadows and night noises had proved much less threatening with Luke by her side and she'd reveled in his presence.

Their quiet conversation was regularly interrupted by Taylor's announcements over the megaphone that she had been found, and Rory couldn't help but cringe each time the news echoed across the town.

With the Crap Shack's outdoor light having blown, Lorelai paced the front porch, scanning the darkness for any sign of her daughter. The moment she heard the crunch of footsteps on the drive she charged down the steps, opening her arms wide and enveloping Rory in a vice grip.

"Rory! Rory. Oh, Rory," she half called, half sobbed, clutching the 11-year-old to her. "My baby. You're okay, thank God you're okay," she murmured, smoothing her hand over Rory's hair.

"Mom," Rory whispered, returning the hug.

"What were you _thinking_ heading out alone at night? I was so worried!"

Rory's lower lip began to quiver and a solitary tear slipped from her eye. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to see Luke."

Lorelai stiffened at the mention of his name, pulling back to look at Rory as she clarified, "That's why you snuck out?"

Rory's eyes fell to the ground and she nodded, letting out a quiet sniffle.

"Oh, kid," Lorelai sighed, feeling a hot ball form in her throat and tears fill her eyes.

Hovering beside them awkwardly, Luke took in the array of townsfolk spread across the porch. Babette – dressed in a fluffy pink robe with matching slippers – watched on with concern and Morey, Miss Patty, Gypsy and Sookie all looked nothing short of relieved.

Determining it was time he took his leave, Luke cleared his throat uncomfortably, holding Rory's backpack out toward the two Gilmores.

"I should…er…I should get going. Get out of your hair," he murmured.

Having been so overcome with relief over her daughter's safe return, it was only then that Lorelai seemed to properly register his presence, her eyes darting up to meet his. They locked gazes for several long moments, and Luke felt his heart twinge at the raw emotion he saw before finally finding the strength to look away. It was the first time they'd crossed paths since the break-up and he felt his stomach twist excruciatingly. She hadn't moved on yet, that much was clear.

"Be good for your mom, Squirt," he rumbled, turning his attention to Rory. He patted her shoulder gently then flicked his head toward the book lodged in the side pocket of her backpack, reminding her of their agreement.

She nodded, sniffling once more as he handed over her backpack, pressed a kiss into her hair and turned to leave.

Sookie wasn't the only onlooker whose face fell with disappointment as Luke's outline began to slip away into the night. However, her heart leapt with hope when she heard Lorelai croak his name.

He turned on his heel, grateful for the darkness that blanketed them, largely masking his expression. At least that way, no one would see the love he still held for her etched into every line of his face.

"Thank you," Lorelai whispered, her voice sounding choked but nonetheless sincere as a tear slipped down her cheek. "For bringing her home."

He simply nodded, then realizing she may not be able to see the movement in the dark, murmured, "Don't mention it," before continuing on his way.

-o-

The next night, the Gilmores arrived home to find the porch light burning brightly.

-o-

 **Copper. Boom.**

 **I don't know what to say lovely readers, other than I'm sorry. Go on: brandish your pitchforks. I can take it...I think *gulp*.**


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